


Getting Through

by Khaelis



Series: The Story of How I Lived [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Aliens, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Rose Tyler, Bad Wolf Rose Tyler, Blood and Injury, Bonding, Curse Breaking, Curses, Dark Doctor (Doctor Who), Doctor Whump, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Fix-It: s02e13 Doomsday, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gallifrey, Gallifreyan, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Loss of Control, Major Illness, Meddling TARDIS, Original Character(s), Reunions, Romance, Sick Character, Suspense, Swearing, TARDIS - Freeform, Telepathic Bond, Temporary Character Death, Tenth Doctor Era, Terminal Illnesses, Time Lord Rose Tyler, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-23 16:58:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 83,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10723464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khaelis/pseuds/Khaelis
Summary: The Doctor finds a way to get Rose back where she belongs: with him, in the Tardis.But nothing comes for free in the universe, especially not the impossible.Rose finds out the hard way the price to pay is his own life.Time is running out, but Rose remembers that nothing is impossible when it comes to the Doctor.And she's not one to let fate decide.[Prompt | Doomsday Fix-It | The Doctor brings Rose back]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Doomsday Fix-It/Reunion Fic
> 
> This story has come a long way from the one-shot it originally was.  
> It's the longest fanfiction I have ever written and it has proved to be quite a challenge, given that English is not my first language.  
> I really wanted to go deep into that one, make it different from what I usually write, do my best to give it a decent enough plot which - I think - has never been written about before.  
> I tried to stick to the characters as much as I could, especially Rose who is to me one of the best characters that have ever been seen in a TV show.
> 
> I don't know if this is a success or if I failed miserably. Thus, I would very much appreciate any kind of review, criticism and thought about this story so I can get better at writing/story-telling.
> 
> Huge thanks to all the readers, the ones who leave kudos, the ones who comment, the ones who remain silent.
> 
> I do hope you enjoy it - and if you do, nothing would make me happier than you letting me know!
> 
> \---------------

* * *

 

 

Rose shivered as the mild yet cold winter wind sang in her ears and made the loose end of her scarf flutter, as if it were desperate to flee the perpetual onslaught of a current too strong to be fought. The bright light of the moon reflected against the thin sheet of ice protecting the secrets that lay under it, at the bottom of the lake – because she had seen too many things in her life not to believe there was something hiding in the depth of that frozen water. The night was clear, the sky a vast black canvas dotted with shimmering tiny stars. It was the kind of night she loved. The kind of night when she could sit there for hours on end, looking up at the universe that lay way beyond the point where her imagination could take her.

 

The stars were pretty, but what she liked the most was to picture all the planets that could revolve around them. Whole galaxies, thousands of different civilizations and species, hundreds of adventures just waiting to be lived. Out of reach. She would give anything to get back up there, among the beautiful infinity of space. She missed the thrill of excitement that used to hook her stomach whenever she discovered a new planet. She missed the wild hammering of her heart that had threatened to burst through her ribcage more than once when running away for her life. She missed the smell of cold metal and old varnished wood that she had grown to love.

 

But when she looked up at the sky on a night such as this one, it was fairly easy to grasp onto the tendrils of memories she had left. The feelings were dulled, but they were there. For just a fraction of second, thinking about them caused a light pull in her stomach, the tiniest faltering of rhythm in her chest, and sometimes she could even swear the blue box was parked a few blocks away and its particular fragrance travelled through the air just to reach her nose. Faint sensations that had become the only lifeline she could hold on to now that he was gone. Because she missed him more than anything else. And as if her fate hadn't been cruel enough, she had started to forget about him. The more she tried to remember the smell of his cologne, or the lukewarm feel of his hand in hers, or even that cheeky twinkle in the depth of his chocolate irises, the faster they slipped away. She could have drawn his face to the last little crinkle at the corner of his eye, guessed his height or shoe-size without a second of hesitation, listed each and every one of the hair products he used to tame his wild mane. But those details didn't matter.

 

She just wanted to remember how good it felt when he hugged her so close she could almost feel the double heartbeat under all those layers of fabric, the reassuring fragrance in the crook of his neck, the delicate heat of his breath as he whispered in her ear. And this morning, she had woken up only to find out that those precious memories she had carefully stored in a corner of her mind were gone. No more phantom feelings of his lips pressing against her cheeks, no more remnants of a faded perfume that used to hang in the air, no more tingle of heat in the small of her back where he more often than not splayed his long fingers. After four years, this was to be expected. It didn't make it any easier.

 

The stars suddenly got blurry, as if she was looking at them through a rain-stained window. Heavy tears rolled down her cheeks and she suffered in silence. That feeling of emptiness made her realize that she wasn't missing him anymore. She was _grieving_ him. Without the fond memories of all those little things he was, she might as well consider him dead. Part of her knew he wasn't, that he still was probably roaming the parallel universe in his blue box, maybe with another companion, even. But somehow, it hurt less to think about what couldn't be anymore than about everything she was missing out on. He was gone. End of the story. _Their_ story. As if this universe wanted to mock her one more time, heavy clouds drifted from the north and obscured the sky, concealing the stars she had been looking at with a dark veil of fluff ready to shed the millions of snowflakes it sheltered.

 

With a sad sigh, she got back to her feet and took a last look around, only to find out the trees were as dull as ever and the surface of the lake as perfectly still as it had been for the past three weeks. Only the weather had changed. It was worse.

 

The air grew thicker around her, and the wind stronger. Rose slipped her hood atop her head to prevent her blond locks from lashing at her reddened cheeks and brushed the snow from her knees with the back of her cold hand. It was time to get home. She could only take a few steps before she stopped dead in her tracks. Along with the loud whistling of the wind reaching her ears because of hood that was way too big, a tired whirring sound tickled her eardrums. A sound she had wished to hear again for so long, this must have been a vicious trick of the mind. But just as soon as it died down, it hissed again, louder. And again. Heart drumming at a pace wilder than the hooves of a galloping horse ploughing the earth, she slowly turned on her feet. The once immaculate blue seemed to have gone through a hundred year long war, large chunks of wood missing on the side, paint scraped off in more places that one, traces of burns everywhere, one of the windows broken, the light at the top flickering weakly as if it were about to give its last breath. But it was here. The Tardis.

 

She took a few tentative steps towards it, reaching out slowly to brush her cold fingertips on the handle. A light buzz coursed through her and the overwhelming feeling of the ship's conscience whipping at the back of her mind made her lungs contract painfully in her chest. She felt more than heard the merry hum of the Tardis and its tremendous excitement, but she couldn't find it in her to smile. Not when the only thing she could focus on was the underlying pain that leached from its weak purr, like poison.

 

Rose jumped back with a shriek when the door swished open with its characteristic squeaky whine, and her knees almost buckled under her when he appeared. There was nothing she could do, nothing she could say. He was just there, leaning heavily against the closed panel and his fingers gripping its side so tightly his knuckles had turned milky white. His face so pale it made it impossible not to notice the little trickle of blood that had dried down on his forehead.

 

 

"You have... Thirty seconds to... To decide if you want to come with me," he wheezed lowly, so lowly Rose believed she might have misheard him.

 

 

He closed his eyes with a sigh, as if the simple task of saying something out loud had consumed the little energy he had left in his body. Rose surged forward with a gasp when he began to waver on his feet and started to slouch forward. She was quick to clench her fingers around his wiry arm, that now felt like was only a bone wrapped into a paper-thin skin, slipped it around her neck and nudged him upwards with her a gentle push of her shoulder against his armpit. All the questions she had were drowned by the intense worry gnawing at her insides. He was too weak, too thin, too light. He felt like a rag doll in her arms and she dragged him to one of the jump-seats, the tip of his worn chucks scraping against the metallic tiles. He collapsed on the seat as soon as she let go of him and his head lolled back, although the tendons straining in his neck made it clear he was trying hard to keep it upright.

 

 

"Seventeen... Seconds," he breathed out, barely able to articulate the consonants. "Decide... Now..."

 

 

The whole ship began to shake, the tremble of the grating under her feet spreading up her legs, red lights flashing all around the console room, a loud and harrowing alarm resonating inside her ribcage. It was all happening too fast, she couldn't think, couldn't make a decision, what about her mum, her family, what about her life here, why so little time, why such a hurry, it was all crazy. But then a single of his fingers managed to curl around her thumb and she just knew. He was here to take her away and she would follow him to the end of each and every universe if he wanted her to. It was the miracle she had been hoping for for the past fours years, and she'd never forgive herself if she'd let this wonderful opportunity pass her by.

 

Quickly, her hands fumbled around his neck to loosen his tie and she carefully took it off, mindful of the cut that ran across his forehead and disappeared into his hairline. She ran back to the door and dropped the garment with intricate blue symbols down before she stacked some snow over it to prevent it from flying away. Her mum knew she always came here. She'd find the tie and just know the Doctor had been there to snatch her away. It was the only thing she could do to say goodbye with the little time she had left.

 

Rose ran back to the Doctor and knelt beside him, her hand finding his out of habit.

 

 

"Doctor, what do I do?" she asked softly, scared that he'd fallen in too deep a slumber to even answer her.

"Red..." was his only answer before a weak sigh escaped his lips and he slumped deeper into the seat, head bending under its own weight.

 

 

Rose nibbled her lips with worry, looking everywhere around her, looking for anything red that might be of particular relevance to get them out of there. Neither the red lights angrily dazzling her, nor the shrilling noise of the alarm were of any help. Suddenly, one of the screen above the console flashed green and a word lit up. _Here_. She thanked the good old ship from the bottom of her heart when she finally spotted a big red button. Count on the Doctor and his curious addiction to buttons of all kinds. She rushed to it and slammed her palm over it without wasting a single second more. The Tardis whirred back to life and the whole grating shook with a tremendous force under her feet. This was bound to be a bumpy ride, she fathomed.

 

She made her way to the Doctor as fast as she could despite her stumbling and fiddled with the seatbelt only to find out there was no way she could fasten it.

 

 

"How many times did I tell you to fix the bloody belts," she cursed under her breath.

 

 

She managed to tie the loose end of the belt to one of the armrests, but given that he was too limp to even be seated properly, she knew it wouldn't be enough to keep him still. She quickly unwinded her scarf from around her neck and wrapped it around his chest, slipping it under his arm to secure a tight knot at the back of the seat. It wasn't much, but it would have to do until the Tardis landed. A powerful jolt sent her tumbling backwards, her back crashed against a vine-like coral column and pain radiated through her entire body. Another one made her trip over her own feet and she fell forward, managing to get a good enough grip on the Doctor's shoulder not to split her head open on the grating. It took all her strength to brace herself against the seat to fight the capricious quaking of the ship and her muscles burnt with the colossal effort it required. Her winter jacket was too hot, the melted snow made her shoes slippery and her hood kept falling down her forehead which made it hard to keep an eye on both the Doctor and her surroundings.

 

It suddenly grew much worse. She yelped when a window from the door blew up into a dozen tiny pieces that got sucked in by an awkward centripetal force. A low rumble echoed from behind her and when she looked up, she saw all the cracks expending on the surface of the coral strut right above them. With a low curse, she struggled to get back to her feet and quickly bent over the Doctor, nestling his head against her chest and wrapping her arms around his shoulders to shield him from the – thankfully small – chunks of the crumbling coral that started to rain down on them. She heard things crash all around her, desperate creaking coming from under the grating, the low hum of pain of the ship drowned into the cacophony of alarms. A faint smell of burning wood reached her nostrils and the rhythm of the time rotor faltered, almost coming to a full stop before starting again at a speed Rose was quite sure wasn't supposed to be this fast. She couldn't be sure how long it lasted, a minute, an hour, something in between, but it was with great relief that she welcomed the silence that followed the shutting down of all the alarms and the sudden smoothness of the ride. They had probably managed to go through the fabric between the universes and had reached the other side.

 

 

"Rose..." she heard him mumble weakly, the back of his head pressing the sightliest more firmly against her clavicle.

"S'okay Doctor," she quickly reassured him, shuffling around the seat to kneel in front of him, careful to keep his head steady between her palms. "I'm here, we made it. You made it. God, you made it."

 

 

Rose barely registered the fact that she was both crying and laughing at the same time, overwhelmed by the realization that it was really happening. The Doctor was here, physically here, and she was back where she had always belonged. She buried her face in the crook of his neck as she hugged him, clinging to the lapels of his jacket for dear life. The usual fragrance of his cologne was gone, replaced by a faint smell of sweat and dirt, but it couldn't hide _his_ smell. The tang of his skin that made her head spin and made all the memories she had thought were gone flare back to life. The sweetest of perfumes could never compare to that. She brushed her nose against the shell of his ear and pressed a light kiss on his jaw that earned her one soft sigh that reminded her he was alive. He was so alive.

 

She drew back slowly, keeping her fingers against his cheek to prevent his head from lolling back and forth. Her immense joy was smothered down like a fire put out with sheets when she finally really looked at his face. She had never seen him this pale before, and the dark circles under his eyes left no doubt that he was properly exhausted. His cheekbones were even more prominent that before and the once healthy dimple at the corner of his mouth had become much too wide and too deep to her liking. He just looked puny. The stubble on his chin didn't help – Rose had learned enough about him to know that a stubble like this meant he hadn't shaved for months. That, combined with the concerning weight loss and the unusual lack of her energy made her feel sick with worry.

 

 

"What happened to you?" she asked between concealed sobs.

 

His eyelids fluttered for a moment until he managed to keep his eyes half-open to look at her. A poor attempt at a smile made the corners of his mouth quiver and he parted his lips to gulp down a small breath.

 

 

"Haven't... Slept in a long time," the Doctor whispered softly. "More than... A hundred years. Took its toll."

"Why would you do this?" she breathed out, nuzzling the back of his hand.

"Been... Looking for you. Couldn't stop."

"You're completely bonkers, you know that?" she said, unable to hide the soft chuckle that flew past her lips.

"Yep", he smiled tentatively, his eyes closing on their own again. "Bonkers... That's me. Hello."

"Can you promise me that's all? You're just tired?"

"Hm," was the only answer he could muster.

"Okay, let's get you to bed, then," she concluded with a kiss on his knuckles. "We'll talk in the morning."

 

 

Rose expected something of a protest but nothing came. He was already back into Morpheus' arms. With a fond smile, she reached around to untie the scarf and the belt to set him free from his bonds. She very gently slipped an arm under his knees while the other crept around his shoulders to secure a hold on his body. He probably weighed less than she did in the moment, and all that Torchwood training had kept her fit enough. She lifted him with ease and made her way towards the corridors, careful not to trip over the chunks of coral that were now laying on the floor. Always willing to help despite her miserable state, the Tardis placed the door to his bedroom as close a possible, and the dark wood panel opened to reveal a room that was so much like the Doctor Rose could have recognized right away. Piles of books were stacked on a dark mahogany desk, along with a bunch of knick-knacks that seemed to pertain to different time periods – from a long peacock feather that was dipped into a small flask of ink to a silver ball that was hovering over the desk as if it were magical, there truly was a bit of everything. The rest was simple. A large bed with deep brown covers, a small dresser, a closet, a few shelves with more books. Nothing fancy, but she liked it that way.

 

She tenderly laid him down on the bed and wondered for a moment if she ought to let him sleep in his suit. The trousers were dirty and worn, traces of an unknown matter on the knees and holes everywhere. The same went for the jacket, and he could certainly do with a hot shower – although that would have to wait until later. Decision taken, she sat next to him and started to unbutton his everlasting brown pinstriped jacket. With a few fumbles and long minutes of careful manoeuvring to get him out of the garment without waking him up, she managed to take it off. Followed the dark blue Oxford shirt, and Rose was relieved to find out he'd given up on the under-shirt. She bit her lips in worry when she saw his chest and made the internal promise to force-feed him anything and everything she'd be able to find in the kitchen when he woke up. She could count his ribs without even touching them and she could make out every curve and edge of his clavicles, sternum, shoulders, hipbones. His skin was as pale as his face and the smattering of hair on his chest and the few freckles and moles that dotted the milky surface stood out in a rather odd fashion. She didn't dwell on it too much and undid his belt before sliding the worn pants down his legs – that looked more like long stilts rather than actual legs.

 

She went to the dresser and found neatly folded pyjamas among some underwear and pairs of colourful socks. She made a quick job of dressing him up and shed her own coat and shoes before she joined him on the bed. A smile found her lips when he immediately sought her warmth and rolled over to snuggle on her side. She happily gave in to the temptation and settled his head against her shoulder, a hand creeping its way down his side to rest on his hip. Unbeknownst to her willingness, his calm and regular breathing that caressed the skin of her neck lulled her into a deep slumber that slowly turned into a heavy sleep.

 

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

 

 

Rose stirred with a moan and nuzzled the soft material her face was pressed against. She felt warm and, quite weirdly, content. It had been a long while since she'd  woken up feeling that good. Slowly, she became aware of her surroundings as the last remnants of sleep seeped out of her system and all her senses were turned on. First, she felt the fingers pressing into her hip and how her leg was nestled between two others in a tangle of limbs. Then she felt a light pull at the back of her head, as if her hair were being played with. And then she felt those lips brushing against her forehead and heard his delicious voice murmuring sweet words against her skin. And she remembered where she was, and more importantly, with who. She stretched a little to let him know she was awake and he shuffled down the bed with an undignified wiggle that threatened to turn her broad smile into an uncontrollable fit of giggles. Their nose bumped into each other and the way his deep chocolate eyes shimmered with the kind of light she'd been desperate to see again made her stomach swoop down and her heart burst into flames.

 

 

"Hello," he whispered softly, face split into a thousand watt grin.

"Hi," she answered with a sheepish nibble on her lower lip.

"So..." he started, brushing some blond strands away from her forehead. "Is this another one of my delusional dreams?"

"If it is, then it's one of mine too," she smiled softly.

 

 

The Doctor let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was savouring the sweet melody of her voice and letting the meaning of her words sink in. He had missed this voice so much, and now that it was appeasing the oppressing silence that had been his only companion for so long, there was no mistaking that it truly belonged to her. To his precious Rose.

 

 

"It's really you," he sighed in relief, his fingers curling around the hem of her tee-shirt. "You... You came."

"You thought I wouldn't?"

"I..." he said slowly, as if he really wanted to put this right. "I didn't know. I had no idea how much time would have passed for you over there, and... You might have found someone else."

"It's been four years," she said as she fiddled with the collar of his pyjama top. "And no. There's never been anyone else. I don't even think that after you, I'd have found someone else... You?"

"Oh, Rose," he breathed out, stroking his thumb under her eye. "You never left my thoughts. I never gave up on you. There was only ever you."

"Doctor," she murmured, wild flutters of excitement and hope making her body shiver. "Before you disappeared... You never got the chance to finish what you wanted to say."

“You… Cannot know how much this has haunted me,” he confessed in a whisper. “I was a coward, and a fool.  _ Quite right too _ . Those words… They almost destroyed me. They kept playing, over and over again, they filled me with so much regret and hatred and rage. But I couldn’t give you any other answer. Telling you would have made it too real. It would have killed me, to know that you had… Graced me with your love and that I’d have to live without you. But, I suppose this wasn’t my last chance to say it. I’ve been given a second chance. And I promise you, Rose Tyler… Not a single day more will go by without me telling you that… I love you. I’d find a hundred ways to tell you I love you, a hundred more to show you how much I do, a thousand more to make you feel just how much you mean to me.”

 

 

Rose felt tears rise in her eyes but she reigned them in. She had never expected the Doctor to be so straightforward when talking about his feelings. He'd always been so protective of himself, always hiding his emotions in the deepest part his soul like the most dangerous secret that under no circumstance should be left out in the open. Maybe it was because his fatigue was clouding his better judgement or because he truly was tired of keeping it for himself, but either way, Rose felt a warmth spread through all her limbs at the revelation. He loved her. After all this time spent replaying his last words before their ways had parted, never to hear how the sentence was going to end, it was such a relief to hear it. It made it real. Her sweet Doctor. He'd gone as far as to break all the rules for her, crossed the thin frontier between the possible and the impossible just to see her again, went through the fabric of the universe just to give her a chance to get back to him. God she loved that man.

Tentatively, she cupped his cheek with her warm hand and craned her neck, waiting for a sign, anything that would show he was okay with this. That he wanted this. If the brown eyes boring through her and the almost imperceptible shift of his shoulder to get closer were any clues, he did want this. So, slowly, gently, she pressed her lips against his. She heard and felt the shaky breath he blew through his nose and she shivered deep down to her core when his fingers went to caress the nape of her neck and secure a hold on the base of her skull to bring her closer, to deepen the kiss. It was amazing just how she had dreamed to kiss that pouty lower lip only to find out the reality was so much better. Soft and gentle and so beautiful. The delicate way the tip of his nose brushed against her cheek, how she felt his jaw slowly work under her fingers, the feel of his stubble scratching the skin of her chin, the silk of his lips and the heat of his velvet skin. It felt as if she was rediscovering what it was like to truly kiss someone. Or, more like, discovering what it was like to kiss a man she loved and who loved her back. It was an osmosis, a sense of belonging, of finally being home. She moaned softly when his tongue ran along the seam of her lips and she immediately granted him access.

The Doctor groaned loudly, the sound echoing low in his throat as he finally tasted the prohibited fruit, the one he'd denied himself for so long. If Heaven had a taste, it would be that one. The perfect equilibrium between a light aroma of mint, an underlying note of green tea and something indescribable, something that was so like Rose it made his two hearts beat so hard against his ribcage he thought he might just regenerate on the spot just for the chance to rediscover that wonderful flavour for the first time. It felt so wonderful to kiss her. His precious Rose, the only one for whom he'd torn a hole into the fabric of the universe and risked everything he possessed, everything he was. One hundred and fifty-seven years roaming around a universe to find a way into the parallel one without making anything blow up into flames. One and a half century going from planet to planet, seeking help from anyone who'd be willing to lend a hand, desperately searching for a solution to a problem that was unsolvable. He had never given up, never lost hope, never stopped thinking about her, as if she were the only beacon that guided his steps throughout all these years spent torn between brutal misery and ruthless optimism.

But here she was, safe in his arms, both kissing the air from his lungs away and breathing new life into the depth of his soul. He couldn't believe how gentle she was with him, the tenderness of her tongue moving in tandem with his, the softness of her full lips and the warm fingers splayed over his cheek. Those were details he swore to commit to his memory until the day he'd die.

The Doctor gasped when Rose suddenly pushed his shoulders into the mattress and straddled his waist, her mouth finding his again with more urgency and a passion he shared, although he'd done his best to hide it until then. This passion was much harder to tame now that she was ferociously chasing his tongue with hers while her fingers tugged on the riotous spikes of his hair that stuck out in every direction. His hands found their way to her hips and a particularly harsh tug set the little fiery desire simmering in his loins ablaze. The lack of physical contact he'd experienced for more than a century made the simplest touch of her skin against his burn and all the dormant connexions roar back to life. He tore his mouth away from hers with a squeak when she wiggled a bit too low – albeit deliberately, it seemed – on his hips.

 

 

"Rose, I..." he rasped, her lips finding that soft little spot behind his ear that sent jolts of shameful pleasure down to his crotch. "I don't..."

"Do you want this, Doctor?" she whispered softly, giving his lobe a playful bite. "I won't do anything without your consent."

"I do, Gods, I do," he groaned as her warm little hand slipped under his pyjama top. "I just... Might not be... Fit enough for anything too physical."

"S'okay," she murmured against the side of his neck. "Just let me. Anything you don't like, anything you don't want, just tell me, yeah?"

 

 

The Doctor nodded weakly and his head lolled backwards on the pillow when Rose began to trail wet open kissed down the column of his throat while her deft fingers popped the buttons of his top off one after the other. His slightly parted mouth let a soft groan escape as her nails gently scraped his sides and her teeth nipped the small dip between his clavicles. Rose had already fallen in love with that sound moments ago, and she wanted to hear it again, and again, and again. She felt goosebumps rise on his skin following the path her lips drew down the middle of his chest and the slight tremor of his pectorals when she brushed a fingertip over his nipple. And there was that beautiful groan again. She smiled against his chest and the Doctor almost jumped out of his skin when she twirled her tongue around the other nipple, the sharp contrast between the heat of her saliva and the much colder air surrounding them heightening his senses. He hoped to every God she would stop teasing soon enough, because endurance definitely wouldn't be one his most impressive assets this time.

The Doctor clasped his fingers around her wrists and whispered her name with a voice dripping with vulnerability.

 

 

"Rose... Can I... Can I see you?"

 

 

She offered a smile and crawled back up his body, purposely brushing the inside of her thigh against the erection tenting his thin cotton pyjama bottoms. She quickly shed her pale blue tee-shirt and shivered when his hands settled over her hips, his long thumbs brushing tiny circles near her navel. The shyness she thought she had mastered came back full force as the two dark pools that had replaced his bright brown eyes stared at her with a hunger and a desire she found both intimidating and arousing. A reddish hue coloured her cheeks but it didn't stop her fingers from reaching her back to unclasp the tiny hooks of her bra. His eyes never left hers when the straps were pulled off from her shoulders and the cups loosened, before she finally let the black lace garment fell on the floor. A shaky breath clawed its way out of her throat as he drank the sight of her naked upper body in and his jaw slackened in awe. The back of his fingers ran up her side and he cupped one of her perky breasts, which rewarded him with a soft moan and her own fingers digging deeper into the skin of his chest.

 

 

"You're so beautiful, Rose," the Doctor said reverently, as if he was finally allowing himself to cope with his utter admiration. "Every little piece of you. Everything you are. Stunning."

 

 

Rose bent over to kiss him deeply, and, more than anything else, hide the tears that pearled at the corner of her eyes. That man, that beautiful Doctor, was so pure and so sincere it made her heart clench almost painfully in her chest. She mouthed an  _ I love you _ against his lips and continued her journey down his lean body, fingers tracing his prominent ribs until her thumb reached the elastic of his pyjama bottoms and her lips settled on the small triangle of hair than thinned up to his navel. She could already smell the delicious tang of him and her arousal mirrored his own. Her indexes slid under the elastic and carefully pulled up both the bottoms and the black boxers before she slid them down his legs, completely taking them off and discarding them on the side. His face flushed delightfully as he finally was revealed to her and his cock bobbed against his lower abdomen in anticipation when she licked her lips with a grin. He shuddered down to his bones when she raked her nails on the inside of his thighs and lowered her head to give his hipbone a playful nip.

The Doctor groaned and his head fell back on the pillow, jolts of wild energy coursing through his veins like an earthquake that shook his whole body. The pinch of her teeth on his skin and her hot breath enveloping him like a warm cocoon was almost too much already. He tensed in anticipation when one of her hand settled on his hip to stop the wriggling he wasn't even aware was happening and a low growl rose in his throat when soft fingers circled the base of his cock and gave it a few experimental pumps. Rose marvelled at the fact that he was already rock-hard under her touch and it made her own desire increase tenfold. She straddled his leg before she bowed her head to do one of the few things she had fantasized about more than once. Her lips closed around him and her tongue carefully ran through the slit on the head, which earned her a cry and a curse, as well as a strong hand slipping through her hair to grab a handful of strands.

If it weren't for his superior Time Lord biology, the Doctor thought he might have come the moment her lips had touched him. Her mouth was so hot, her lips so tight around him and her tongue coaxing out so much pleasure, his toes curled around the sheet and the hand that wasn't busy with her hair was fisting a lapel of his pyjama top so hard he was already feeling it getting all tingly. A loud moan came out of his mouth when she suddenly slid her mouth all the way down and the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat. His hips involuntarily jerked up when the wet heat pulled back, a skilled tongue pressing the underside of his shaft on the way up before swirling around the head. She was overwhelming him with too many sensations at once, she somehow knew every little thing that drove him mad with pleasure – the soft underside of her tongue against his head, the tight grip of her fingers on his base, fingertips fondling his balls.

 

 

“Rose, my Rose,” he almost sobbed, the tornado of emotions and sensations much too powerful for the crumbling walls of the sanctuary he had built to keep his feelings safe.

 

 

Her rhythm suddenly increased and his breath got ragged, laboured, hips rising up and down in perfect synchronicity with the movements of her mouth. The coil in his loins grew tighter and he tried to warn her that he was close with half words and short onomatopoeias. He wasn't even sure she wanted this, but the way she caressed his thigh tenderly with her palm and flicked her tongue with more conviction than ever against the head of his cock left no doubt about her intention. Her lips tightened around his shaft, her cheeks hollowed and a particularly deft twirl of her tongue finally sent him tumbling over the edge. His back arched from the mattress as her came into her mouth with a raspy cry, eyes rolling back into his head. Rose slowly brought him down from his high with a few strokes and a quick kiss on the tip of his cock that coaxed a last shudder from his body, and sensually crawled back up his body to capture his pouty lower lip between her own. He moaned weakly into her mouth and wrapped his arms around her neck to draw her closer, shivering deeply when he felt her naked chest press against his.

 

 

"Rose," he mumbled against her lips, giving them quick nibbles when she stopped kissing him long enough. "Thank you. That was... Amazing."

"Hmm," she hummed with a soft giggle and a shallow bite on his jaw. "Don't ever thank me again for that. I like it as much as you do."

"Yes, um," he started, nuzzling the hair at the top of her head. "Talking about you..."

"Payback can wait," she smiled as her mouth reached the column of his throat and her teeth scraped his Adam apple. “I’m just happy to be with you.”

"This thing is," he started, drawing in a sharp breath half-way through. "I have one beautiful Rose Tyler who's doing some things she shouldn't be doing if she doesn't want me all hot and bothered again."

"Oh, come on," she chuckled, raising on her elbows to look at him with a glimmer in her eyes. "You can't."

 

 

The Doctor gently took her hand and guided it towards his crotch, pleasantly proud of the gasp she let out when her fingers brushed against his full erection.

 

 

"No refractory period," he smiled with a sly wiggle of his eyebrow. "Although... As I told you before, my endurance happens to be quite limited for now. So..."

"We don't have to, Doctor," she reassured him with a brush of her knuckles against his cheek. “I’m not that kind of human, you know.”

"Rose, I… I want you" he started, all traces of humour gone from his voice, replaced by a vulnerability and a longing that made it hard to deny his request. "I need you. It’s not about the sex. It’s about… Making one with you. Feeling I’m not alone. I just don't know if... I'll have enough strength to make love to you. Until... You know. I just..."

"Hey, Doctor, stop right there," Rose interrupted, pressing a kiss on the tip of his nose. "As long as you promise not to fall asleep..."

Rose trailed her fingers down his body again and she heard his breath getting caught in his throat when they closed around his cock.

"I can take over if you can't keep up," she continued, giving him a few, slow strokes. "I'll make love to you."

"Yes," he gasped as she circled her thumb over the tip of his weeping cock. "Promise. I just want you so much, Rose. I need... I need you. All of you."

"You have me, My Doctor," she whispered, sealing that promise with a soft kiss. "All of me. Forever."

 

 

Rose yelped when he grabbed her by the waist with a low rumble echoing in his chest, and her yelp turned into a moan when his lips sucked one of her nipples into his mouth while his fingers pinched the other other hard enough to send sparks of electricity through her whole body, gently enough not to cause any discomfort. His fingers were quick to find the buttons of her jeans and pop them off in a matter of seconds. There was a sudden urgency in his movements and he slid down her body, dropping heated kisses wherever his lips landed. He tugged forcefully on the garments that protected the last of her intimacy and they joined his own in a heap at the foot of the bed. He licked his lips like a predator to taste her smell and the pheromones hanging heavy in the air around them, and he parted her thighs with a gentle nudge of his elbow. His fingers were too impatient to wait any longer and he ran an index through her swollen folds, finding them already dripping with hot juices. He brought a slick finger to his mouth and was pleased to see the desire burning in her eyes as he darted his tongue and licked his index clean.

 

 

"You taste so good, Rose," he said, closing his eyes to better appreciate the tangy wetness covering his digit.

"Doctor, please," she begged as she crossed her ankles in the small of his back. "Make one with me."

 

 

The Doctor settled between her thighs and carefully bent over her body, leaning on his elbows. His tongue invaded her mouth without any preamble and she happily obliged, straining her neck to kiss him harder, deeper. It was a battle they playfully fought until she reached down between their bodies and her fingers found his hard length. He groaned into her mouth and he broke the kiss with a wet sound when she guided to her entrance. Breathing hard and repressing his most carnal instinct to just plunge into her relentlessly until she came, he simply nudged and waited for her. Her heels pressed into his arse and the head of his cock slipped in, which caused them to groan in unison at the sensation and to give in to their primal needs. Her hips rose to meet his first, powerful thrust, and he waited for her to get used to his girth, stifling his heavy pants in the crook of her neck. After a short moment, she kissed the top of his head and rolled her hips against his, letting him know she was ready. His movements started out slow and passionate as he revelled in the sensation of being completely surrounded by his Rose, body and soul. Her moans sounded like the most beautiful of songs in his ears and her nails raking the skin of his back was the sweetest kind of pain he'd ever experienced. Their forehead glistening with sweat met and their eyes exchanged looks burning with desire and passion.

 

 

"Rose," the Doctor growled, his teeth briefly pinching her lip as he struggled to formulate a coherent sentence. "Can I... Gods, can we share one mind?"

"Yes," she groaned as an unexpected movement of his hips made him hit the perfect spot. "Us. Together."

 

 

The Doctor almost sobbed in relief as the tendrils of his consciousness reached out to hers and they locked together with so much ease that the steady rhythm of his thrusting faltered for a moment. Rose trusted him implicitly and a wave of love and affection crashed over the both of them through their intimate connexion. They didn't need thoughts to understand each other. The feelings were enough, transcending anything else. They became a single entity moving in perfect harmony, their hearts beating at the same rapid staccato rhythm and their pleasure growing together in a wild crescendo. Rose didn't even question what was happening, she just let her body be carried away by the erratic build up of bliss the Doctor was awakening in the depth of her mind, so powerful it came close to hurting. He suddenly grabbed her ankles with a possessive grunt and rested them against his shoulders so he could thrust deeper into her, harder, faster. The new angle made Rose cry out in sweet ecstasy and it spurred him to spend what little was left of his energy to please her as best as he could.

The tension in his abdomen grew exponentially tighter and he knew he wouldn't be long before the coil of pleasure snapped. His thumb found her clit and rubbed in tight little circles while his other hand fumbled to find hers, sweaty palms clinging to each other, fingers twining together. Rose bit the inside of her cheek and she closed her eyes forcefully as her orgasm hit her unexpectedly hard and fast, his name leaving her lips in a loud cry and her walls fluttering around him. He was quick to follow, unable to resist the sweet spasms of her aftershocks. He came with a sob and stilled inside her as his hard shaft twitched for long seconds. He collapsed forward with a heavy sigh, careful not to hurt her or crush her with his weight. Their bodies were sticky with sweat, the smell of it mingling with the heavy tang of sex, strands of hair glued to their faces. And yet they still glowed in the aftermath of their passionate love-making.

The Doctor nuzzled her cheek with a low hum of contentment and she answered with a lingering kiss on his knuckles. Their connexion was slowly dying down but not yet completely severed. They basked into each other's feelings for a few more minutes until the light buzz at the back of their minds faded and the quiet thudding of their hearts in their chest became the only thing they could hear. The Doctor stopped moving after a moment and Rose wondered if he'd fallen asleep – which would put her in a very uncomfortable position. But his hand eventually found the side of her face and guided it so he could press his lips against hers.

 

 

"I love you," he murmured, looking at her with a sweet tenderness and a glimmer of devotion despite his eyes hooded with exhaustion. "Thank you... For coming back to me."

"I love you too, my Doctor," she whispered as she cradled his face in her hands. "Thank you... For coming back  _ for _ me."

"I'll always come back for you, Rose Tyler," he managed to say before a heavy yawn prevented him from adding anything more.

"You won't need to anymore. 'M never leaving," she smiled fondly, shaping his hair back to its original form with a few tugs. "Although I should probably go get a shower."

"No, don't go," he breathed out, nestling his face in the crook of neck and tucking an arm under her. "Please, don't go..."

"Okay," she agreed soothingly. "I'm not going anywhere. It's just... This is isn't exactly comfortable, so, um, could you...?."

"Oh, right... Sorry... I'll just..."

 

 

Rose winced when he let the weight of his thin body roll on the side, which caused his now soft appendage slip out of her, and quickly picked up her tee-shirt to clean up most of the mess they had made. A smile found her lips when he blindly reached out with his hand with a childish whine, and she clasped his fingers with her own before planting a small kiss over his knuckles and dropping back down on the bed next to him. The Doctor immediately sought the full contact of her body and struggled for a moment to find the best position – which happened to be a chaotic tangle of limbs – until his head eventually stilled on her shoulder and another yawn probably threatened to dislocate his jaw.

 

 

"Will you be there... When I wake up?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course, I will," she promised softly. "Now sleep, Doctor. You're exhausted."

"Wonder why..." he breathed out, the weight of his head finally going limp on her shoulder.

 

 

Rose chuckled lightly and planted a lingering kiss on his damp fringe, running her fingertips up and down his arm. She wasn't particularly tired – she couldn't tell how much time had passed since she'd left the parallel universe, but she was sure she'd already gotten a full night of sleep. So she did what felt natural. She cried in silence. She looked at his beautiful, peaceful face and she cried. The feel of his skin under her hands, his slow, steady breath caressing her neck, his angular body leaning into her soft curves. She couldn't understand how his sole presence caused her heart to flutter and her body to buzz with so much joy it made her hair rise on her skin, but she didn't need to. She didn't want to put words on what she was feeling anyway, because none could be used to define the love that bubbled in her chest and the irrepressible need clawing at her stomach to hug him tight, melt into his body, drown into his scent. She loved him, probably beyond reason. But if she had learned anything when travelling with him, that would be just how much better it was to be a little crazy. Now, they could be crazy together. And it felt wonderful.

 

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

 

 

Rose was anxiously nibbling her thumb nail. The noise the heel of her right foot tapping repeatedly against the grating was the only thing that troubled the heavy silence in the console room, and she found it hard to stay still on the jump seat and keep her lips sealed. She had already opened and closed her mouth on several occasions, but every time she had, he'd always tugged on his hair or muttered under his breath, thus reminding her that it was best not to bother him with annoying questions. She just stared at him with both patience and nervousness in her amber eyes as he fiddled with the hundred commands on the panel, flicking switches with careful meticulousness and smashing buttons down with fingers curled into a tight fist. She wanted to help, but he obviously didn't – even though he hadn't clearly said so, the way he'd pushed her away with a gentle nudge of the elbow and had pinched his lips when she'd been standing too close to the commands he'd wanted to access had been enough clues.

So Rose had simply sat on one of the jump seats and was now watching with rapt attention. She couldn't exactly deny she loved seeing him like this. The artistic mess of hair with strands pointing to whatever direction he pulled them in when he stood with a hand on his hip, thinking about what to do next. The sexy glasses he readjusted on the bridge of his nose each time they slipped down as he bent over the console to examine a button – glasses that had more or less become one of the fetish she hadn't been aware could provoke such wild and hot fantasies, but had already been used  _ in _ appropriately once. The perfectly defined jaw moulded by his skin when his teeth ground together under the frustration of not getting what he wanted – always accompanied by a loud blow he let go through his nose that made his nostrils flare. The long and dexterous fingers sliding over the commands in an almost sensual way, as if he were caressing fragile strings on an ancient harp.

But what she loved the most about him in that moment was how alive he was. How he quickly ran from one button to the other with so much energy it almost made the air around him buzz with electric potential, how his trousers threatened to tear with each of the wide splits he managed to execute with grace, how he waltzed around the console to pull levers and press keys to enter new sets of numbers and data. She could almost hear the music under each of his steps, in the swooshes of air that followed the movements of his arms, the lyrics in the short threads of voice that flew past his lips as he mumbled to himself. It was a comforting sight to see him like this. Clean-shaven, neatly trimmed sideburns and hair shortened so that the spikes she used to know were back to normal length. A brand new brown pinstriped suit with the matching blue shirt and tie – although the chucks were still desperately worn out and dirty.

And, the most important of all, was how his body had spectacularly changed within a week. When she'd been scared by the worrying paleness of his face, his cheeks were now deliciously coloured with a reddish flush – probably because of all the running he was currently doing. When she'd seen how thin he'd become, she now knew the lean and strong muscles that lay under all those layers of clothes and skin, a beautiful body carved out from pure strength despite his skinny limbs. It just felt like everything was back to normal. Like he'd never left her on that beach without a proper goodbye, like those four years in the parallel universe had never happened. Just the two of them in the Tardis, almost ready to sail off to some new adventure in the depth of the universe.

 

 

"Ha ha!", the Doctor suddenly exclaimed, slamming his palms down on the console and making Rose jump in the process. "There we go!"

 

 

Rose sprung to her feet as the Doctor looked at her with a thousand watt beam and reached out with wiggling fingers. She smiled back as she clasped her hand around his and brushed her knuckles over the console to feel the happy hum of the Tardis reverberate through her arm up to her shoulder. She welcomed her presence at the back of her head and let the comforting rush of relief flow through her veins. The Doctor had been working so hard to put his ship back into shape, tinkering with the hundreds cables under the grating and fixing the broken components with his sonic screwdriver, only stopping when Rose threatened to kick his butt if he didn't eat or get regular naps. It felt good to know the Tardis was finally feeling better, ready to fly through the time vortex and take them wherever they wanted to go, wherever their hearts and minds would take them, far beyond the limits of her imagination.

 

 

"So, where to, Rose Tyler?" the Doctor asked with a broad grin, excitement making his fingers unconsciously tug on hers. "Past, future, hot, cold, mountains, beaches, forests? Anywhere, anytime, your choice! Shiver and Shake, back on the road to new adventures!"

 

 

Rose took a moment to consider the infinite possibilities that were offered to her. All of space, all of time that lay just under her fingertips, the choice should have been hard to make. But it wasn't.

 

 

"Could you take me home?" she asked softly.

 

 

Rose realized how very untactful her question was when she saw a veil of hurt cloud his eyes, felt his fingers go slack around hers and his shoulders slump ever so slightly. It felt as if his excitement had been flicked off faster than a light and replaced by a darkness that had instantly swallowed up to the last crumble of the cheerfulness that had blown up into tiny pieces. She slipped a finger under his chin to tilt his head back up to catch his eyes and cradled his tense jaw with the palm of her hand.

 

 

"Oh, Doctor," she said with a soothing caress of her thumb. "I didn't mean it like that. I'd just like to go to the flat we had in London. Here, in this universe. Pick up a few things, you know? Just... Some family stuff."

"Right," he nodded, blowing a quick sigh of relief through his nose. "Of course, yes. Although we're gonna have to be quick. I'll have to land the Tardis right after what happened at Canary Wharf. No one can see you, you're supposed to be dead. Fixed point in time, we can't change any of that."

"It won't take long," she promised as he started to enter the coordinates and fiddle with a few buttons and levers on the console. "And Doctor?"

"Hm?" he queried, eyes focused on the screens to make sure the ship was following the right course.

"If you ever dare doubt that I'm here to stay again, don't complain about the multiple bruises on your skinny arse."

 

 

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her with a sheepish grin, but when he saw the glint of amusement shining in the depth of her honey eyes he understood she was just joking – or so he hoped. He had never been one to accept the concept of impossibility because he was convinced that he hadn't seen everything the universe had to offer yet. But the fact that Rose Tyler was here, next to him, playfully glaring at him with a hand in her hip, came pretty close to fall within the spectrum of things he qualified to be highly improbable. Even after a week, he still had a hard time believing that the body that lay next to him in his bed was hers, that the delicate scent of her pomegranate shampoo wasn't a figment of his imagination, that the hands that touched him and the eyes that looked at him belonged to her. That the lips that kissed him and the loving smile that greeted him in the morning were for him only, wonders he cherished like the most precious of presents and the rarest of stars. And it was all Rose.

He tenderly brushed his knuckles against the soft skin of her cheek with a short chuckle and bent to plant a soft kiss on her lips and erase that cheeky smirk from her face.

 

 

"Sorry, love," he apologized with a shrug and a light squeeze on her hand. "I don't doubt you. I never have. It's just that... I don't think I'd survive losing you again, and... Oh, look, yes, here we are, London, Powell estate, we should go while there's still time."

 

 

The Doctor quickly finished his sentence all while looking away and rocking on his heels, as if he wanted to drown the important piece of information and avoid having the inevitable conversation about his deepest fears. No such luck. Rose grabbed his arm and although his eyes travelled around the room to prevent them from stopping on her concerned features, he eventually had to face it. Her loving and comforting gaze burnt through him as one of her hand slowly rose to meet the side of his neck, her thumb running gentle circles over his tensed jaw.

 

 

"We've been denied our forever once already, Doctor," she whispered softly, the melody of her voice an ode to both to fierce resolve and searing passion. "You came back to me, you gave me a second chance to abide by the promise I couldn't keep. I'm yours until my very last breath in this universe, Doctor. Whatever happens, every second of my life, every breath I take and every beat of my heart... They're all for you because that's the only thing I can give you. Someday, you'll have to let me go, I grant you that. But you won't lose me. I'll be here," - she pressed a palm against his chest, between the two hearts that were hammering wildly against his chest - "and here," - she brushed two fingers up his cheeks until the came to rest against his temple. "And you can't lose something that's part of you. Stories end, but they never die. So let's write a good one, yeah?"

"Yeah," he breathed out, rather overwhelmed by the meaning of her words. "I... I just love you so much, Rose. I'm just... "

"Brooding when you should be smiling?" she asked with a light caress of her fingertips against his forehead. "Look, Doctor, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere, so please keep the tearful speeches for when they might actually come in handy, okay?"

"Yes, I... I suppose you're right," he admitted with a sheepish smile. "Sorry for being silly."

"I might not love you as much if you weren't silly," she answered with a playful shove of her shoulder.

"Good to know," he grinned before assailing her sides with tickles – which rewarded me with a warm laugh and a smack on the top of the head. "Now, should we go before I start brooding again?"

"Yep, allons-y!"

"Hey, that's my catchphrase, Rose Tyler!"

"Come take it back!"

 

 

Rose managed to flee his hand before he could get a hold on her and ran to the door in a fit of giggles, the Doctor quickly following in her steps in a childish attempt to trap her between his arms. It was when she pulled the door opened and was greeted by the small living-room she knew so well that her laughter was smothered down faster than a lit match held under a stream of water. She took a shy step into the room and trailed her fingers on the soft material of the couch, taking in every little detail that shouldn't have mattered and yet almost brought tears to her eyes. A full cup of cold tea was left untouched on the small coffee table along with a pile of tabloids with rumpled corners and the broken remote control. A long woollen shawl knitted with bright flower patterns had been carelessly thrown onto a cushion, a lone pink slipper was lost under the table, a blue hair scrunchy abandoned on the armchair. She could smell the light fragrance of the fresh flowers coming from the kitchen, feel the warmth of the space heater, hear the low, slow-paced jazz tune coming from the small radio that hadn't been turned off. It looked like her mother hadn't been away for more than a few hours – which was actually the case, but after spending more than four years by her side in a parallel universe, it was hard to see it as it was. She almost expected her mum to kick the door open, arms full of grocery bags and whining loudly that no one ever helped her with anything in that bloody flat.

But Rose knew she would never see her again. She shivered deeply when she felt the Doctor circle her waist with his arms from behind and nestle his chin atop her shoulder. He brushed his nose against the shell of her ear and rocked her gently, trying to offer a comfort and a support he wasn't even sure she wanted from him. He was the reason she had to leave her mother, her whole family behind, after all. Rose heard him take a small intake of breath and open his mouth, and she immediately knew what he was about to say.

 

 

"Don't," she quickly interrupted, turning in his arms only to see his concerned frown. "'M fine, yeah?"

"It would be quite normal if you weren't," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead. "You don't have to pretend you're alright when you're not. Not with me."

"I know," she shrugged as she absent-mindedly fiddled with his fingers. "I'm just... I'm gonna miss her, you know. I'm gonna miss them. But it's okay. Mum gets to keep living a better life with Pete and I get to spend the rest of my life with you, and everyone's happy."

"Are you, though?"

"Doctor, don't make me repeat myself," Rose sighed in exasperation. "There is nowhere I'd rather be than here with you. I won't say it again so you'd better remember it. I made the right choice, following you, and I'd make that choice a thousand times more if need be. So please, for the love of God, trust me. Yes, I'm gonna miss my mum because I love her, but no, I don't regret coming with you because I love you. Now she has Pete and I have you. It's all that matters. Okay?"

"Okay," he nodded gently, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. "So, what do you want to take?"

 

 

Rose gave him a small smile and took to his hand to lead him to her bedroom. She wrinkled her nose when her eyes were greeted by so much fluffy pink – from the carpet, to the curtains and bedsheets, that girlish colour was everywhere – and she grumbled at the Doctor whom was trying hard not to laugh.

 

 

"Oi, I was only fifteen when I designed that bedroom," she justified with a playful slap on his arm.

"Oh, really?" he raised an eyebrow as he picked a pink cushion from the bed to examine it more closely. "You're positive you weren't six and had just discovered the wonders of Barbie world?"

"Mean," she huffed with a grin, rummaging in her closet to find an old duffel bag. "When you're done making fun of me, will you grab the book in the first drawer of my bedside table, please?"

"Sure, princess Rosy Pink."

 

 

The Doctor did as he was told and picked up a thick book with a faux-leather cover engraved with golden letters that read Sweet Memories on the front, while Rose was head deep into her cupboard and stuffing her bag with the few articles of clothing she deemed important to keep. His interest was piqued and he opened the book at a random page, only to find a photograph that brought a fond smile to his lips. A very young Rose dressed in light blue pyjamas was sitting under a Christmas tree, mouth covered in chocolate and an expression of pure joy written over her face as she brandished a short plastic sword that matched the little helmet that topped her head. Definitely not the six year-old princess he expected, but he found it all the cuter. With all the battles he'd seen her fight, the rudimentary knight set seemed actually much more fitting than a pink dress.

 

 

"There was a time I wanted to be king Arthur and find the Holy Grail," Rose told him with a soft chuckle as she peeked over his shoulder to see what photo he was looking at.

"Did you find it?",

"I did, actually," she laughed, slipping her arm into the straps of her duffel bag. "Happened to be a small plastic glass buried in a flower pot in my own living-room, how crazy is that? Of course, mum never told me where to dig and definitely did not put a tarpaulin under the pot so I wouldn't make a mess of the carpet."

"That must have been quite an adventure," he smiled before closing the book and handing it to her.

"Yeah, I even called the British Museum to tell them about my fantastic discovery. I still don't know why they didn't believe me."

"Their science committee is rubbish, that's why."

"I suppose that might be a reason, yes,” she smiled, enjoying the simple fact of sharing a memory with the Doctor. “So, um, I just need to fetch something in my mum's bedroom and I'll be done here. No need to set up a camp. You can just... Wait for me in the Tardis. I won't be long."

"Okay," he agreed without a second thought, knowing she probably wanted to spend the last few minutes in this flat alone. "Love you."

 

 

The Doctor pressed a quick kiss on her lips and gave her hand a gentle squeeze before he made his way back to his ship. Surprisingly, the small rooms and tiny corridors made him feel rather nostalgic, which was something he hadn't expected. Not much had happened here, but still, the few memories were intact. He'd almost died in that living-room when he still was all leather and big ears, he'd been slapped and kissed by Jackie in that short hallway, he'd been bored out of his mind watching EastEnders on the tiny telly with a tasteless tea in one hand that he'd made the effort to sip on – because he hadn't been rude enough to refuse. Overall, not good memories. Except he'd lived through all that thanks to Rose, for Rose, with Rose. And she had made it all so much better. So worth it. With a last look at the room, he walked into the Tardis, knowing that was the last time they'd come here. The last thing he'd tear away from her.

The Doctor closed the door of the Tardis behind him, and a tired sigh flew from his lips. 

 

 

“I wish I could find the Holy Grail,” he murmured under his breath. “That’s what I should have given you. Eternal life. That would have been enough, right?”

 

 

He reached inside his pocket and drew out a small vial, flicking the lid open with his thumb. He eyed the bright yellow pills with a frown of disgust for long seconds, unable to decide if he should take one. One wiggle of his right fingers was enough. He managed to swallow the medication past the lump of anxiety that had settled low in his throat and hid the vial back in the pocket of his trousers, right on time.

 

He looked up from the console when he heard the door close, and it took a good amount of willpower not to mention how red her eyes looked despite the smile she was struggling to keep plastered on her face. He didn't even ask what else she had judged necessary to take with her and simply watched in silence as she carefully put her duffel bag down and readjusted a chain around her neck that hadn't been there before. Everyone had their own cross to bear, he supposed.

Rose walked to the Doctor and hugged him tightly, burying her tear-stained face into the crook of his neck without adding a single word. She knew he understood what she was feeling and she was just glad to let him rock her into his arm and plant reassuring kisses on the top of her head, his long fingers rubbing gentle circles in the small of her back.

 

 

"It's okay, love," he murmured as he trailed his lips down to her temple, her hands curling around the collar his shirt. "I'm here. You have me."

"I know," she whispered, eventually wiping the almost dried tear tracks on her cheeks. "Thank you... For bringing me here."

"Whatever you need, Rose. All you need to do is ask."

"Then... A forest."

"Sorry?" he asked with a curious curl of his lips.

"Earlier, you asked me where I wanted to go," she reminded him with a smile, fiddling with the knot of his tie. "I'd like to go to a forest. If you don't mind."

"You're sure you're up for it?"

"Come on, Doctor, please. I'm fine, I promise. We agreed on the no-brooding clause, so let's just have a good laugh some place I haven't seen yet."

"Right, of course," he nodded, a small light of excitement parking up in the depth of his irises. "There's actually this one place I wanted to take you, big forest, giant trees, enormous flowers, best forest in the universe. All forests are nice though, love a good forest, but this one is..."

"Doctor?"

"Oh, right, best not spoil the surprise before we get there," he chuckled when he realized she had interrupted another one of his rambling frenzy. "Oh, um, you should take a swimsuit. And peanuts. And no, you can't ask why."

"You know you sound a bit crazy sometimes, right?" she grinned before kissing him deeply.

"You love it," he said with a fake haughty shrug and a grimace that aimed to give him a pompous look that was awfully counterbalanced by the blush that spread to his cheeks.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," she laughed with a brush of her fingers on the tip of his nose. "Alright, I'll get your peanuts. We'd better be there when I come back."

"Oh, but we'll be, Rose Tyler!" he called out behind her as she left with a gait he was quite sure she adopted on purpose to drive him mad. "And you'd better pick a bikini!"

 

 

He saw her mumble in the movement of her shoulder more than he actually heard it before she disappeared from view – not without adding a certain extra-swagger to her hips when she turned into the corridor. He really hoped she'd pick a bikini.

 

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

 

 

Rose zipped her small backpack closed and slipped her arms into the straps, already feeling the tiny butterflies of excitement flap their wings in the pit of her stomach. That was it. The first time they would go on a proper adventure since she'd come back to him. The soft groans and wheezes of the Tardis landing brought a smile to her lips and it her impatience seemed to match the one of the ship, telepathic streams of trepidation caressing the nape of her neck and enveloping the threads of her thoughts with warm amusement. So much time had passed since the last time she had travelled along the Doctor through the stars that it almost felt like the first time again. Same desire to discover some new place full of wonders, same thrill to meet new people and new species, same yearning to be drawn into a world she knew nothing about that was probably light years and billions of miles away from Earth, same amazement at the fact hat she would breathe air and tread earth that were born in another galaxy in some lost corner of the universe. Only this time, there would be no awkward situation caused by unspoken desires and concealed feelings. That made it even better.

 

With a grin still clinging to her lips, she jogged back to the console room where the Doctor was already waiting for her, leaning against the door, arms crossed above his chest. He was quick to straighten on his feet when she joined him and reached out for her hand with wiggling fingers that she immediately slipped between her own.

 

 

"So, Rose Tyler," he started with a smile that showed more teeth than she had ever seen before. "Welcome to Dvathem."

 

 

The Doctor pushed the door open with his foot, but before Rose could go outside he produced a straw hat from behind his back and screwed it on the top of her head, which earned him a scowl of annoyance.

 

 

"What's that for?" Rose whined as her eyes almost crossed when she tried to get a better look at the adornment. "I'm not much into fashion, you know, but this is the ugliest thing that's ever been invented by Man."

"Just a precaution," he shrugged, pulling on the brim to lower it even further on her forehead. "The star that shines its light on this planet is very old and very big. That means lots of UV rays and potential sunburns. Or should I say _nolaburns_? Funny how you humans find words that only mean something in your galaxy. Anyway, protection against UV, please don't take it off, don't pretend to lose it, and everything will be fine. "

"Alright," she sighed in defeat. "Just remind me to buy a decent hat next time we go shopping."

"I'll have you know this hat comes from the 36th century," he informed her with a grin. "Straw hats never go out of fashion. In fact, there's this..."

"Doctor?" she interrupted as she splayed a hand over his chest. "Can we please go, now?"

"Oh, of course," he nodded with a smile. "Go on, then. But don't wander off."

 

 

Rose smiled and took a few steps outside, bright green moss squishing under the rubber soles of her trainers and a surprising warmth wrapping around her body like a cocoon made of comfortable wool. That was the kind of sight she'd been dying to see. Trees with trunks as large as a buildings that stretched up so high towards the sky she could barely make out the leaves that formed a canopy of red and yellow, only pierced by a few holes through which the light filtered. The Doctor had definitely not lied about its brightness, as the few rays that clawed their ways through the leaves and branches were enough to illuminate their surroundings despite the impressive thickness of the greenery ceiling. The soil was littered with enormous plants, their multicoloured flowers so big Rose thought she could have rolled herself into one of their petals as if it had been a soft blanket. Colours dripped from the bark in large viscous blobs lazily following the curve of the trunk down to its base, red melting into green and deep purple – a bit like a puddle of car fuel on the road after it rained, Rose thought. She watched as the Doctor twirled his finger into the weird substance and brought it close to her mouth.

 

 

"Taste this," he smiled, sucking on the thumb he had just covered in the gluey stuff to have a taste himself. "Best thing in the universe. After bananas, of course."

"This won't kill me, right?" she asked with a frown, not quite sure she trusted something she had compare to gas moments ago.

"Perfectly safe," he assured, wiggling his index under her nose. "I didn't bring you all the way back here to murder you with palosium honey. Come on, Rose, taste it, it's good."

 

 

Rose couldn't help the chortle that echoed in her throat as he generously gathered more of the sap on his thumb and stuffed it into his mouth with a somewhat exaggerated hum of delight. She closed her lips around his fingertip and a smooth and sweet taste immediately exploded on her taste buds – something between maple syrup and a lemon-flavoured candy, she supposed, only much better. It _was_ good, but it wasn't even close to being as good as seeing the blush that spread on the Doctor's cheeks as she swirled her tongue around his finger with a mischievous smile.

 

 

"I... I think you, um, got all of it," he stuttered after clearing his throat, quick to wipe his hand on his trousers when she released the finger with a wet pop. "We'll pick some jars in the village when we make our way back, if you want."

"I'd love to," she purred as she leaned against his side. "It's really good. Especially when eaten off from you."

"Rose Tyler," he huffed, tugging on his tie a little to ease the suddenly stifling grip of his collar on his neck. "You are being inappropriate."

"'M not," she laughed with a gentle nudge of her elbow in his ribs. "Come on, now, I'm dying to see what you wanted to show me."

"Right. This way, then. Shouldn't be a long walk to the village."

 

 

 

Rose took his hand with a renewed feeling of excitement and they began their short walk to the village through the giant trees. She marvelled at her surroundings, eyes trying to look at every weird-looking and yet beautiful flower and plant, every insect and every animals that didn't bear any resemblance to anything she'd ever seen on Earth, every rock that glowed with the powerful light raining through the leaves and shone with an oddly pulsating blue hue. It all looked uncanny. She knew she'd never been here before but somehow it still looked familiar. Probably just a consequence of travelling around the universe for so long that nothing could surprise her any longer. Nothing, except maybe the sight that greeted her when they took a final turn and the entrance of the village appeared. She almost protested when the Doctor tugged on her hand to spur her to walk a little faster, as if he suddenly was impatient to join the alien _person_ _–_ Rose refused to consider it as a thing, because it was obviously alive, and probably sentient given how the Doctor greeted it when they got close enough.

 

 

"Tarvkee!" the Doctor exclaimed with a broad smile, stepping on the tip of his toes and extending his arm up as far as it could go to shake one of the alien's three enormous fingers that ended with sharp claws. "How nice to see you, how are you?"

"Valiant heart," the alien saluted, voice so deep and loud Rose swore she could feel her heart tremble in her chest and the earth shake under her feet. "This one is no finer than the light that graces this planet today. Has the Doctor been successful in the quest that would bring peace to a troubled soul?"

"Yes," he answered excitedly, taking a step on the side and tugging on Rose's hand so that she would stop hiding behind his back – which she had managed to do quite brilliantly until now. "Here she is, Rose Tyler."

"The flower that swam against the currents of destiny," he said, crouching down to take a better look at her. "This one has never seen such fragile petals survive the storm of the deities and the shadow of too dark a soul. This one does not know about the Rose, but its real beauty must lie in its thorns."

"Oh, everything about her is beautiful, really," the Doctor smiled, throwing Rose a fond look. "Much like your Ghaneesi."

"May the blessing of infinite devotion touch the empty souls. This one is pleased to meet the immortal flower."

 

 

 

Rose watched as he extended one of his fingers towards her and understood somewhere in the back of her head that she should probably shake it. But she was still unable to cope with the fact that such a being could talk with so much kindness in his words and so much smoothness in the way they rolled off his tongue. The alien was more than twice the height of the Doctor and almost five times as large, with legs that looked way too thin to support the weight of his muscular upper body. His arms were thicker than her whole body and she was sure his three fingers were long enough too completely circle her waist. His skin seemed to be made of tiny, light brown scales, a stripe of dirty white fur running from his chin to where his belly button should have been, had he had any. His big eyes were so deep, hidden away by bushy eyebrows, that if it weren't for the light reflecting on the bright yellow irises, she probably would have missed the gentle look he was giving her. And she probably would have feared him. Claws as sharp as an eagle's, a perfect row of fangs with two lower canines that were so long he couldn't keep them inside his mouth, a set of horns bigger than those of a bull, heavy muscles rolling under a hard skin... Nothing reassuring about him. Except his smile, maybe. Or what probably was a smile.

 

 

"Rose?" the Doctor whispered with a discreet pull on her hand. "Don't be rude, now."

"Yes, sorry," she quickly apologized when she realized she had been staring for far too long before she clasped her whole hand around his cold and rough finger. "Nice to meet you, too."

"This one is honoured to meet the Rose," he said humbly, giving her a small bow of the head. "This one must ask, did the Rose come to tie the Kchuli ivy?"

 

 

Rose didn't miss the Doctor's gasp and the way his fingers tightened around hers, his eyes going wide.

 

 

"No, no, not at all, she didn't," he stuttered, waving his free hand around as if he could chase the words the alien had said away. "No, definitely, not."

"What does that mean?" Rose asked, confused. "Tie what?"

"This one remembers the Doctor wanted the Rose to tie the Kchuli ivy," the alien frowned – or so Rose guessed, she couldn't be sure.

"Yes, I told you that when we last met," the Doctor nodded as he ran a hand down his face in a vain attempt to wipe the blush of shame off his cheeks. "But not now. Just... Now is not the time. "

"Doctor, what is this about?" Rose questioned again, a bit more demanding. "Time for what? What ivy?"

"Rose, please, don't ask," the Doctor implored. "Look, Tarvkee, we just came so I could show her the Leelhi, would that be okay?"

"Ah, the Doctor knows how to seduce a flower," the alien said with reverence, straightening up on his feet. "This one will grant you access to the cave, but the Doctor shall not forget to return before the veil of night falls onto the village."

"No, I shan't indeed," the Doctor nodded his agreement with frantic movements of the head. "Thank you, Tarvkee, for everything you've done for me, and everything you still do."

"This one was pleased to help an old friend," he said as he revealed his fangs into what must have been a smile. "This one will never forget what the Doctor did to save the Dvarthemees. The Doctor should go, now. The Rose is waiting."

"Right," he said with a clap of his hands, more than ready to go and avoid any more embarrassing conversation. "We'll come by later, Tarvkee. Thanks again."

 

 

The Doctor made a rather complicated movement with three of his fingers as a goodbye gesture that Rose was quite unable to reproduce, so she simply waved with a smile before he took her hand and led her away from the kind alien. Rose was many things but she definitely was not stupid, nor blind, and she noticed how the Doctor kept avoiding her eyes every time she tried to look at him. It grew even worse when they marched into the village – streets of giant huts to accommodate their impressive heights and a few rudimentary shops that didn't seem to sell much apart from food and jars of the honey she had tasted earlier. They had only taken a few steps before they stumbled onto a group of the aliens, whom all gave courtesy bows before greeting the Doctor, thanking him and, more importantly, asking if he was here to tie the _Kchuli ivy_. Same question, same reaction from the Doctor – namely an awkward mumble and a blush, accompanied by a tight squeeze on her hand. Thankfully enough, the aliens were quick to end the conversation and go back to whatever they were doing. They kept going, and Rose felt his uneasiness grow each time the question was asked as they slowly progressed through the maze of hay and mud houses, to the point the hold on her hand turned into a vice-like grip that threatened to cut all circulation. It was only when her fingers started to feel dead that she pushed him into a corner, and she managed to free her hand from his before gently cradling his jaw with it.

 

 

"Doctor, will you tell me what this is all about?" she asked softly, brushing her thumb over his cheekbone in a soothing motion.

"Rose, this is rather... Mortifying," he breathed out, still unable to look at her.

"The ivy thing, right? What is it? Why do they keep asking if that's what we're here for?"

"It's just... A ceremony, here, on this planet. Nothing of importance, really, we should just..."

"Doctor," she warned with a look that left him no choice but to explain.

"Alright," he sighed in defeat before taking a deep breath. "Last time I came here was because I needed their help to get you back, so I told them my story, and I told them who you were to me, and they asked if if I loved you enough to tie the Kchuli ivy with you, because the whole thing wouldn't have worked otherwise, so I said yes, and now they think we're here to actually tie the ivy, which we're not, because there's no way I'm asking you out of the blue if you want to bond with me, so please, just forget that I told you this, and now I'm properly embarrassed, and we should go before this embarrassment makes me spontaneously combust."

 

 

Rose gaped at the Doctor with eyes as wide as saucers, trying hard to make sense of the endless stream of words that had just come out of his mouth. The bashful smile splattered on his face didn't help, nor did the wild blush that spread from his cheeks to the collar of his blue shirt and the ear-tugging reflex he had whenever he was feeling uneasy. Oh, he looked cute and positively handsome, but that wasn't the information she was looking for. It took a moment before her brain started working again and the only words that mattered echoed against the walls of her skull until it made her dizzy. _Bond_. Tie the Kchuli ivy. Of course, it made sense.

 

 

"Oh, Doctor," she finally whispered, gently pressing her forehead against his. "Is that what you're embarrassed about? Asking me to bond with you?"

"I didn't ask," he pouted as he kept staring at the tip of his shoes.

"Right," Rose said softly, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice. "Of course you didn't. Domestics and all. You don't do that, I get it."

"No, no, Rose, it's not like that," he quickly responded, searching for the hand that had fallen from his face. "Never like that."

"It's okay, Doctor, really," she shrugged tentatively with a squeeze on the fingers that found hers.

"No, it's not," he countered as he bent forward to finally stare into her eyes. "Listen, love. I want to ask you. There's nothing I want more. But I also want it to be special. This is too important to me, and that's not the way I want to do it. Please, Rose, trust me on this. I _will_ ask you. Only, when the time is right, not just because I feel compelled to do it. I want it to be more than this."

 

 

He fiercely ignored the fact that he might not get the opportunity to ever ask her and did his best to hide the turmoil of thoughts that invaded his head and made him bite his cheek. If it weren’t for the whole situation he was neck-deep into, he would have already asked her. If he could find a way to get better, he would ask her. He knew he couldn’t bond with her the way he truly longed to, but he could at least marry her like most humans did when they wanted to put a name on their relationships. That would be enough. It would have to be enough.

The Doctor blinked out of his inner monologue and feared he had let too much show over his face, but his doubts vanished when she cradled his cheek in her soft palm with a reassuring look.

 

 

"You say the most beautiful things when you're all serious like that," Rose smiled, rather touched by such honesty and insecurity. "Truth be told, I feel the same way."

"You do? You're... Not mad at me?”

"Of course I'm not, Doctor. I can never be mad at you. And whatever you decide, whatever you want, I'll still love you."

"Good," he sighed in relief, drawing her into a tight hug. "I love you, Rose. I promise I'll do my best when I actually propose."

"You'd better," she laughed before she gave him a quick peck on the lips and brushed her nose against his. "Now, weren't about to take me see the... Um, the Leelhi, was it?

"Yep," he confirmed with a grin, hooking their fingers together. "It's just up this road. I hope you're not afraid of deep waters."

 

 

Rose didn't get the chance to answer as he tugged on her hand to lead her along the path of moss, steadfastly ignoring the last questions about the ivy they were asked as they passed before the few Dvarthemees that were busy just outside the village. Rose looked up to the end of the path and she eyed with a tinge of confusion the enormous mountain that stood in the distance before them, its top so high a big fluffy cloud hid it from view and pure white snow covered its sides – rather surprising, given the warm atmosphere and the bright sun rays that made her glad the Doctor had covered her head with a hat, no matter how hideous it was. The moss turned to pebbles as they neared the end of the road, and just when Rose was starting to think they were headed into a stone wall, she saw a large entrance to the cave the alien had talked about.

 

 

"Jeelhashi cave!" the Doctor exclaimed excitedly as he started to walk faster, dragging Rose behind him until they finally stepped into cave.

 

 

Rose was amazed to discover it from the inside, and she thought she might have never seen anything so beautiful, and probably never would again. A gaping hole into the rock of the mountain wall shed light onto a turquoise lake bordered with a beach of thin, white sand and the same stones she had seen earlier in the forest that glowed blue. A few plants were scattered around – but given their gigantic size, a few was more than enough – and huge birds with bright multicoloured feathers were lazily gliding through the air, singing a rather hypnotic melody that sounded both melancholic and merry.

 

 

"What a beauty," the Doctor stated with a warm laugh that echoed so far away it remained audible for almost a whole minute before it died down. "Two billion year old and the only cave of that kind in the whole universe. Even I don't know how this thing can exist, quite an achievement for something as boring as stone."

"How is it so different?" Rose asked as she prodded the sand with the tip of her shoe.

"The hourglass structure, Rose," he explained, motioning for her to stand at the edge of the water surface. "A lake that has no bottom inside a mountain. That means only the inside has collapsed at some point, a bit like the sand in an hourglass. And the same thing happened at the exact opposite on the other side of the planet. Supposedly, impossible. Then again, I don't know everything there is to know about this universe. More fun this way, don't you think?"

"I guess it is," she nodded with a smile, putting down her small backpack. "So, the peanuts are for these birds, right? They're the Leelhi?"

"Oh, no, they're not. Time to take the peanuts out and show off that bikini, Rose Tyler."

"For your information, I also packed your swimming trunks. Time to show off those abs, Doctor."

"Fine," he drawled as he caught the swimwear Rose threw at him. "All's fair in love and war, I suppose. Just don't look while I change. Please?"

"A thousand year old and still prudish as a nun," she chuckled under her breath, throwing her hat on the side.

 

 

The Doctor did his best to remove his clothes as quickly as possible and slip the trunks on, just so she wouldn’t be suspicious. One peek behind his back assured him that she still wasn’t looking, and he made the most of it to fetch a pill he had kept securely zipped away in one of his pockets. It was becoming harder to hide all of this from her, especially since he’d had to take that medication much more often for a few days, and he knew she was too clever not to notice at some point. He was bound to be found out, but the later, the better. He cleared his throat and neatly folded his trousers next to his worn chucks, and when he turned on his feet his breath hitched in his throat.

 

 

"I asked for a bikini, not... Whatever this is supposed to be," he came close to squeaking as he pointed at the outfit she had donned, a shiver running down his spine.

"That was the only one available, sorry," she apologized with a shrug. “The Tardis wouldn’t let me find the one-piece swimsuit I kept in my bedroom.”

"Oh, that is quite fine, brilliant, really, I don't mind."

"I thought so," she said with a tongue-touched grin before planting a soft kiss on his lips half-parted in awe.

It took a moment, but after the Doctor cleared his throat and stopped staring at all those smooth expenses of creamy skin that weren't covered by the scant yellow bikini that didn't leave much to his imagination, he bent down to pick the bag of peanuts and handed it to Rose.

"Just throw some into the water, okay?" he asked as he stuffed a handful of fruits into the palm of her hand. "We need to draw them to the surface."

"But what are _they_ , exactly?"

" _They_ are something you want to see," he simply said with a grin. "Come on, love, throw them."

 

 

While Rose did as she was told – not without faking an annoyed puff and giving his butt a gentle slap, the Doctor made a cone out of his fingers that he brought to his mouth before a sharp, high-pitched whistle fell from his lips and echoed loudly against the walls of the cave. He repeated the operation once more, then twice, peanuts thrown one after the other into the depth of the clear blue water. Rose started to sway impatiently on the ball of her feet, staring at the surface of the lake for any sign that something, anything was coming. Then, all of the sudden, she saw a large shadow move a few feet under and shrieked when soft ripples disrupted the stillness of the water, growing higher and stronger by the second.

 

 

"Doctor, look," she whispered, pointing at the obvious with excitement.

"Here come the Leelhi," he confirmed with a smile, slipping behind her to draw her into a hug. "You're gonna love them."

  


* * *

 


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

 

 

Rose watched in awe as the surface of the water broke and two pairs of bright blue eyes landed on her. She would have found them beautiful if it weren't for the overall appearance of the animal that was now floating lazily a few feet away from the shore of the lake.

 

 

"So, that was you plan, Doctor," she whispered, unconsciously pressing her back further into his chest. "Show me a monster that can use my arm as a toothpick after it's eaten the both of us? Nice."

"Oh, they feed on plants and rocks, she won't eat us," he smiled as he took her by the waist to pull her closer to the edge of the lake.

"It's a she, then?"

"Yep," he nodded with a loud smack of his lips. "May I introduce Koohla."

"And they have names," Rose stated plainly as if it made perfect sense. "Of course they have. What kind of giant winged alligator doesn't have a name."

"Well, not names," the Doctor explained as he threw some more peanuts at the animal. "More like titles. Koohla roughly translates as protector."

"Who comes up with these names?" Rose asked, taking a tiny step back when the creature blew a strong puff of air through flaring nostrils.

"They do. This is a highly intelligent sentient species, Rose. They communicate through telepathic waves and sounds, they have their own language. There's a whole congregation down there, a whole society with a hierarchy between the individuals. Last time I asked, there were about three hundred of them"

"And they're friendly?"

"This species hasn't known fear or hatred for millions of years, so it's evolved into one of the most peaceful in the whole universe. Can't find anything friendlier around here. You just need to trust them. Come with me."

 

 

The Doctor gently tugged on her hand as he took a few steps into the lake until he was knee-deep, and Rose was pleasantly surprised to find that the water was as warm as the air surrounding them. She still wasn't much reassured by the impressive size and the intimidating stare of the creature, and she shivered when it open its gaping mouth, revealing more sharp teeth that she could even count. Still, she followed as the Doctor finally got completed submerged by the turquoise water and his head momentarily disappeared under the surface before it popped up again with a loud splash. He carefully manoeuvred behind her to circle her waist and gave a few kicks to drive their bodies closer to beast.

 

 

"Alright, love," he whispered, nestling his chin over her shoulder. "Now you can pet her. Gently, just so she can get used to you. Their curiosity can make them a bit too enthusiastic."

 

 

Rose managed to splay her fingers on the side of the beast's head, pedalling in the water fast enough to remain at a suitable distance from it, but as soon as her soft skin met the hard scales her hand retreated. It wasn't the low rumble that made the hide of the creature vibrate and the hair on the nape of her neck rise that made her break the contact. It was the soft voice that echoed against the walls of her skull in a gentle melody that had an almost eerie quality to it. An upbeat song that would have made her laugh if it weren't the surprise and the bewilderment that superseded the sudden glee that had taken possession of her body.

 

 

"I heard her," she whispered as she gauged the beast with eyes full of awe. "In my head. She made me feel... I don't know, happy?"

"Ha, I told you she was a telepath," the Doctor smiled, reaching out to caress its head. "Touch telepath, just like me. See that blue patch on the tip of her muzzle? That's how couples communicate. Bit like what you'd call an Eskimo kiss, they just press this against each other's and they can share all their feelings and thoughts."

"Who would think alligators the size of a bus could do such a cute thing, right?" Rose giggled, turning her head enough to brush her nose against his. "So, it's normal that I felt weird, right?"

"Yep," he confirmed with a smile. "Their telepathic abilities are far superior to mine, though, that's why you felt an instant connection. She didn't quite make you happy, what you felt is just what she felt. And she can feel what you feel, so don't be scared, she wouldn't understand the feeling and that could make things awkward. If she likes you, she'll take us to the Pahloo cove, so do your best not to be rude."

"I can hardly be rude to something that could eat me whole without chewing."

"Fair point. Now, just touch her and don't break the link. You'll know soon enough if she's willing to do us the favour."

 

 

Rose reached out once again to place her fingers on the side of the beast's head and instantly felt the weird tickling at the back of her neck and the voice that seemed to burgeon inside her brain and reverberated through every fibre of every muscle. This time she couldn't help the laugh that flew past her lips despite her best efforts to keep the air inside her lungs and not make a fool of herself. It felt so strange to feel what the animal was feeling and, at the same time, she thought she'd never experience such a wonderful thing again. The song grew in intensity and although Rose was sure no sound was coming out of its mouth, she still felt the thick skin under her hand throb rhythmically as if a thunder was rolling up its throat.

She wasn't sure what the Doctor meant by not being rude, because even if she wanted to be, she would have been quite unable to. Her own emotions were overwhelmed, almost drowned completely by those of the Leelhi, and she had no idea how the beast would realize she was trying to be as friendly as possible. It was so much more different from what being telepathically connected to the Doctor. When she'd grown accustomed to his presence in her mind and had almost mastered the delicate art of sharing thoughts and intimate feelings with him, that kind of telepathy was entirely too new. Like everything she was was being erased only to be replaced by a personality that wasn't quite hers. Each intake of air she took gave more breath to the beast's song and each exhale came out in a soft chuckle. After a moment, she couldn't even tell if those chuckles were genuinely hers or just a consequence of feeling so much of the beast's emotions. She couldn't bring herself to care.

Rose gasped when the Leelhi suddenly ducked its head under water and broke the contact, all perception of reality coming back at once in a rush of sensations, from the sound of splashing water to the feel of the Doctor's hands on her hips and the warmth of his lips against the skin of her neck.

 

 

"Good job," he smiled with a voice dripping with pride. "Now hop on. To the cove we go!"

 

 

"Wait, you expect me to ride a giant alligator?," Rose asked when her mind had cleared enough.

 

 

She got her answer when the Doctor managed to throw a leg over the creature's neck – creature which had been kind enough to dive a bit further down and make the climb easier. He wiggled a little until her was comfortably seated, his hand taking a good grasp on particularly large scales and his feet settling on the joints between its wings and its body. He offered his fingers with a wide grin and she had no choice but to take it and let herself be pulled up on the Leelhi's back.

 

 

"It's not going to be a long ride," he reassured her once she was sitting behind him, arms tightly secured around his waist. "Just a few minutes."

"Is it fast?" she asked, the slight tinge of worry she'd been feeling replaced by tiny butterflies of excitement.

"Well, it depends," he started just as the beast almost entirely resurfaced and turned around to face the direction they were supposedly headed. "Are you feeling adventurous, Rose Tyler?"

"Oh, come on, you know me, Doctor," she smiled, nestling her chin in the crook of his shoulder. "Love a good adventure."

"You asked for it, love," he gave a cheeky wink. "Safety first, make sure your feet don't put too much pressure on her wings and don't let go of me. Oh, and try not to scream too much, you'll make her nervous."

"Scream? Why would I..."

 

 

The end of her question was swallowed by a loud gasp when the Doctor kicked the beast's sides gently and its whole body surged forward with a powerful flap of its huge wings. She felt herself fall and only then she realized that the Leelhi's head was almost pointing to the magnificent ceiling of the cave – much like the rest of its body. They weren't moving forward, they were moving upward. Thick-skinned wings splitting the air with a deafening whistle that threatened to make her eardrums burst and billowing tail guiding their course, they were flying. Rose tightened her grip on the Doctor's waist and her thighs wailed in protest as she squeezed them as hard as she could against the rough scales of the Leelhi, desperately trying to remain upright despite the impossible angle of the creature rising in the air and the forceful tremors shaking its whole body at each flap of wings.

When the Leelhi gathered its wings on the side and whirled around in the air so quickly the whole scenery blurred into a hundred of shapeless colours, Rose couldn't help the scream that fell out her mouth – which was answered by a loud laugh and a delighted roar from the Doctor.

 

 

"Whoohoo!" he cheered, daring to release one hand and punch the air in a broad gesture of victory. "Brilliant! You go girl!"

"You said adventure, not suicide!" Rose shouted just as the beast started to free-fall, all its movements coming to a stop.

 

 

She dared to look down with eyes wide open, watching as the water that had managed to cling to the Leelhi's scales pour into a heavy rain onto the surface of the lake that was growing much too close, much too quickly to her liking. Another scream flew past her lips when the creature suddenly spread its wings again at the very last second, just before they could hit the water and break their necks. They started to glide lazily right above the lake, its sharp claws slicing through the still water, and when Rose was sure it wouldn't try to kill them again she slipped a finger under the elastic of the Doctor's swimming trunks and pulled on it harshly before releasing it. It cracked like a whip over the small of his back and the Doctor let out an undignified yelp.

 

 

"Hey, that hurt!" he whined as he rubbed the reddening patch of skin with the tips of his fingers.

"You deserved it," she chastised, trying rather ineffectively to hide the tremolo that made her voice tremble. "Next time you want to do something scary and dangerous, I'd appreciate a bit of forewarning."

"Scary? Really?" he asked with a frown of concern, turning his head around just enough to see a smile that in no way matched the fright that had transpired through her words.

"Scary, yes," she grinned from ear to ear, shuffling a little to press her chest further into his back. "And dangerous. Could you just... Ask her to do it again?"

"Oh, Rose Tyler, I love the way you think! Just hang real tight to me, things are going to get so much more interesting!"

 

 

Rose barely had enough time to clasp her hand around her wrist to secure a hold around the Doctor before he kicked the creature again. The flap of the enormous wings spurred its body higher up in the air, the surface of the lake growing more distant by the second. If Rose had been brave enough to raise an arm above her head, she might have touched one of the bright glass stalactites that hung from the rock ceiling from the tip of which a purple gooey substance was steadily dripping. She didn't how fast they were actually going, but given the whir of the wind ringing in her ears, the way her hair angrily lashed at her cheeks and how they had to lean forward not to be pushed back by the force of the air currents, she thought it better not to think about too much. Whatever the speed, it was amazing.

And the Doctor was absolutely delighted. He was having the best of fun he'd had for decades and he'd be lying if he said that Rose Tyler had nothing to do with it. Feeling the soft skin of her arms around his waist, the flutter of the strands of blond hair tickling the back of his neck, hearing the melody of her laugh and the harmony of her voice falling straight into his ears. Just the two of them, on a little adventure which reminded him of everything they didn't get to do together while they'd been apart for tortuously long years. So much time wasted because of a simple lever, so many opportunities to tell her how much she meant to him just missed, sucked away in a timeline he'd seen ripped off from his own. He wished things could have happened differently. He wished he'd been brave enough to forget about his stupid principles for one moment and just tell her how he felt. Brave enough to tell her he loved her and do more to keep her on his side. He should have done that an eternity ago. Especially now that he felt the cold, weird tingling sensation spread from the tip of his right fingers to the crook of his elbow. It was growing worse. They hadn't lied about how long it would take. He had hoped for more, but now he knew. Soon, he would have to tell Rose the truth. Soon, the pretty story of reunited star-crossed lovers would turn into the darkest of nightmares.

The Doctor chased that awful thought and that dreadful feeling away when Rose tapped her fingers against his stomach excitedly and her giggle echoed against the walls of the narrowing passage through the walls.

 

 

"Come on, Doctor, add some spice!" she loudly exclaimed to cover the deafening sound of the wind they were slashing through.

"Alright," he agreed with a nod, hoping she wouldn't notice the slight waver in his voice. "Hold on, then. She's quite the acrobat."

 

 

The Doctor pressed a hand against the large protuberance at the back of the Leelhi's head and sent a few mental images to show it what he wanted it to do. Soon, a growl started to simmer in its throat and made its whole body shake forcefully, until its mouth opened and a raucous roar resonated against the walls of the cave. And God, what an acrobat it was, Rose thought. The enormous beast did a terrifyingly exciting barrel roll at what seemed to be a hundred mile per hour, and Rose could have sworn her heart and stomach were jiggling around in her ribcage as if nothing was holding them still any longer. The Leelhi danced in the air, taking sharp turns right, then left, nosediving at particularly abrupt angles before going back up with a powerful flap of its wings. They glided over the surface of the lake, almost skimmed against the rock walls, barely escaped being beheaded by the large rocks protruding from the ceiling, all while fighting the onslaught of the wing and the loss of balance that threatened to send them overboard. It was exhilarating.

 

 

"The Pahloo cove!" the Doctor managed to shout after a gravity-defying looping that made Rose clap her hand against his stomach with a merry laugh. "Ready to see it?"

"Yeah, absolutely!" she answered much more softly now that the Leelhi was slowing down and gently diving towards a tiny beach of white sand.

 

 

They landed on the beach as if it had been a fluffy pillow and the silence that replaced the mad whistle of the wind and the thunder that rumbled in the beast's throat made her realize just how loud the whole experienced had been. She hadn't noticed that the Doctor was already waiting for her down next to the creature, a big grin plastered over his face and a hand reaching out to her. She took his fingers with a giggle and joined him down on the warm, thin sand that felt like carpet woven in pure silk.

 

 

"You okay?" the Doctor asked with a smile, readjusting a strap of her bikini top that had gone askew over her shoulder.

"That was amazing!" she clapped, jumping enthusiastically around a few times before throwing herself into his arms. "God I missed this so much."

"What, scary and dangerous stuff?" he chuckled, rubbing his thumbs gently over her hips.

"No. I mean, yes. But I missed doing that kind of things with you."

"You did?" he raised an eyebrow with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"You, my love," she started with a poke of her finger against his chest, "have no idea how boring my life was without you. See, if we'd found a unicorn in the parallel universe, what would Torchwood have done? Lock it in a room to study it. Boring. You find a unicorn, you just say sod it and ride it all while munching away on a banana and ranting about how bloody brilliant it would be to have a magical horn. You make everything interesting and fun, even when we're a breadth away from a gruesome death. That's the story of our life together. And I really did miss it. I missed you."

"Oh, I missed you too," he replied softly, pressing his lips against her forehead. "Should we continue the story of our live together with a visit to the Pahloo cove, Miss Tyler? There's no magical horn, but there's still some magical stuff around. If you want to believe it."

"I'm willing to believe in anything when I see you next to me," she smiled before gently kissing his lips.

 

 

The Doctor smiled back as he twined his fingers with hers and gave them a soft squeeze. They offered the Leelhi a small pat of gratitude on the head and headed toward what seemed to be an entrance to a small cave made of a tangle of branches and ivy. Rose couldn't quite make out what was waiting on the other side of the thin curtain of green leaves as it seemed to be the only place in the whole cave to be swallowed in darkness. The Doctor carefully pulled on the falling leaves to enlarge the passage and invited Rose in with a small gesture of the hand, reassuring her with a wink that there was nothing to be afraid of.

Rose took a few steps inside and a shaky sigh escaped her lips as she did her best to take in the beauty of the scenery. The cove was rather small compared to the rest of the cave, but never before had she seen something as beautiful as this. Large yellow crystals were haphazardly groping their way out from the maze of bright red flower and neon green leaves, and those hanging from a ceiling made of ice almost seemed to be frozen in time, right before the moment when they would have fallen and crashed down on the carpet of velvet-like vegetation. Rose would have gladly admitted that those crystal were alive. The way the light emanating from the hundreds of tiny fireflies lazily floating in the air reflected against their smooth glassy surface and the soft breeze coming from the entrance ruffling the leaves were enough to create the illusion that the crystals were actually moving.

The Doctor slipped behind her and pointed to a corner of the cove that Rose hadn't seen before.

 

 

"That's when the magic comes into play," he whispered softly in her ear, brushing his thumb against her shoulder blade.

 

 

Rose had no idea what could be so magic about such a recluse part of the cove when the rest was enough for her eyes to shine and her mouth to open in awe. Still, she slowly made her way toward the corner the Doctor had indicated, doing her best to avoid disturbing the fireflies that stood in her way, careful not to step on the small flowers scattered around the thick layer of white sand. Something that much resembled a kiln was carved directly into the wall of rock, intricate motifs chiselled into its different parts and filled with bright paint. A few rudimentary tools were laying against its side – tools that she had seen before when she had visited a forge with her school quite a few years back – and burnt coals were still laying at the bottom of a small pit. It was rather weird to find such unnatural things in an otherwise unsullied cave, but Rose failed to see why the Doctor was so keen on showing her that particular place. Or she did, until she spotted the basket that was hanging from a hook and, more importantly, what was in it.

She shivered when the Doctor wrapped his arms around her waist and nestled his chin against her shoulder, nuzzling her cheek with the tip of his nose. She picked up what was left of an old tee-shirt – a whole sleeve and a large part of the bottom were missing – but she would have recognized the blue and purple patterns everywhere. It was hers.

 

 

"The only thing that could remind me of how soft and how warm your skin was," the Doctor said in a breath, brushing the tip of his fingers against the material of the tattered garment.

 

 

Rose bit her lip and tears filled her eyes as her hand closed around the tee-shirt – a simple tee-shirt, so how could such a thing make her cry, she had no idea. Her trembling fingers picked up a small glass bottle then, and she once again knew that it had once belonged to her.

 

 

"Your perfume," he pointed out even though it clearly was unnecessary. "To remind me of how good you smelled, of how I loved the scent of your neck whenever we hugged."

"And this is... _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_?" she asked in a whisper as she took out a worn book.

"To remind me of how beautiful and peaceful you looked whenever you fell asleep against me in the library as I read it to you."

"And the earring?"

"Silver. Strong and precious. Just like you," he added softly. "There was also a photograph your mum had taken of the both of us. To remember your smile. And a recorded testimony of the Tardis and a few other people. Just to remember how kind you've been with everyone you've met when you were with me."

"But..." Rose started, turning around in his arms snuggle against his chest. "Why? What does it have to do with me?"

 

 

The Doctor gave her a small smile and Rose felt a harsh pang in her heart when she noticed just how close he was to crying.

 

 

"I did everything I could to get back to you," he began to explain, unconsciously fiddling with the knots oh her bikini straps as if he were nervous. "Even things I don't usually believe in. You see, the Dvarthemees have this legend. If you've lost someone dear to you, the crystals from the Pahloo cove can help you find them. You take every little thing you can that reminds you of the one you lost, burn them along with a crystal in the scared furnace that's right behind you, and you end up with a small gemstone that's supposed to guide you back to that person. They believe the whole ritual has some magical properties, that it creates some kind of link between the two persons. So I completed the ritual and... Well, I gave it a try."

"And... it worked?" she asked softly as she kept looking at every part of his face but his eyes so she wouldn't succumb to the temptation to cry.

"I like to think it helped," he shrugged with a sheepish smile. "Every time I looked at that stone, it reminded why I was doing all of this. Why I needed you and why I couldn't give up. It was like a... Spiritual help, of some sort."

"You, the atheist and the scientist, getting spiritual help?" she smiled through her tears, rubbing her fingers against his forearm. "You must have been more desperate that I thought."

"Oh, you have no idea, Rose Tyler," he laughed. "The things I wouldn't for you. I even _prayed_. Never felt more stupid in my life than the moment I knelt in front of an altar with joined hands."

"I'd have paid to see that," she giggled before pressing a kiss on his jaw. "What else did you do that I have to be thankful for, then?"

"Oh, um, lots of things," he quickly dismissed the question with a grimace. "Maybe I'll tell you about it. So, do you like the cove, then?"

"I have to admit, it was quite beautiful when I saw it. But... You've just made it the most beautiful place in the whole universe."

 

 

Rose stood on the tip of her toes and delicately cupped his jaw with her fingers, still amazed to find so much love and affection in the depth of his chocolate eyes. The feeling never went away. Always the same pressure around her heart, the same butterflies in the pit of her stomach, the same desire to laugh and cry at the same time at the simple sight of this wonderful man. She loved him more than she would ever have thought possible to love someone. She'd do anything for him, she'd die for him. And it made it somewhat easier to accept the fact that he'd done all of this for her. She wouldn't betray him or his trust. She wouldn't think she didn't deserve it. She'd just make the most of the second chance they'd been given and show him he hadn't fought through hell and back for nothing.

The spark in his eyes matched hers as she slowly leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

 

 

"I love you, my Doctor," she murmured softly against his mouth as her fingers ran through his hair.

"I love you, my Rose," came his answer before he deepened the kiss and brought her lean body closer to his.

 

 

Rose was surprised to hear his voice chanting her name in the back of her head, quite sure that it wasn't supposed to happen. But, lost in the kiss, she thought it better to give in to the emotions that came with the litany he was whispering into her mind. _I love you_ , he repeated over and over again. _I love you too_ , she answered as his tongue teased the roof of her mouth. _To the end of the universe_ , he started as her fingers tangled tightly in the wild spikes of hair that topped his head. _And back_ , she finished as his hands found their way down her back to pull her closer, so close they couldn't almost feel each other's heart beating in tandem against their ribcage. _Forever_.

  
  


* * *

 


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

 

 

Rose stretched with a yawn in the comfortable sofa, still quite unable to open her eyes and do more than let her head fall back and moisturise her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. She could see the lights of the fire burning a few feet away from her in the enormous fireplace that decorated the library dance behind her closed eyelids. She could feel the warmth of the wool spread that had carefully been wrapped around her frame. It would have been the perfect way to wake if it weren't for the missing body on which she had fallen asleep. She waited a few minutes, hoping that the Doctor might come back – preferably with a nice cup of coffee that would help her brain out of the usual morning fog that took much too long to dissipate without the blessed elixir.

 

But when she realized that he'd probably been awake for a few hours already and that he was most likely to be fixing a bunch of things in the Tardis that didn't need to be fixed, she pushed the cover away with another yawn and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She had to admit, she wasn't the nicest person out in the universe right after rolling out of bed – or sofa, in that case, and she quickly reminded herself that neither the cold metal of the grating under her naked feet, nor the way the mascara she hadn't cleaned off the night before sticking to her eyelashes in the most disagreeable way were the Doctor's fault. No need to be rude about the cold air that made her warm skin shiver and the loud background whirs of the Tardis either. It was fine.

 

Rose carefully folded the woollen spread down on the sofa and picked up the book that had been left open, face down on a cushion. _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy._ Oh, the Doctor had read that book so many times to her that she could have recited whole pages and mimicked the expressions he usually had splattered over his face whenever he impersonated the characters – so well that sometimes she almost believed Arthur and Ford were the men she was actually listening to, voice deep enough to make their chest vibrate under all those thick layers of clothing. _Funny, how just when you think life can't possibly get any worse it suddenly does_. It was one of the few lines that never failed to make them burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. It wasn't as much the fact that it summed up their lives in the most relatable manner than the way the Doctor wiggled his left eyebrow with a conniving wink that made Rose laugh.

 

How they always ended up putting their lives at risk to save the day shouldn't be funny. But somehow, it was. There was nothing more thrilling than the relief that flowed in their veins after escaping an angry alien. Nothing more satisfying that seeing people cry tears of joy after being saved by one of the plans they usually made as they went. Nothing more rewarding that watching kids run into their parents' arms after sneaking them away from danger. Rose would never trade this life for another. If she had learned anything, it was that flying through time and space with the Doctor, with the man she loved, was everything she had always wanted her life to be, no matter how dangerous, life-threatening and ugly things could get. Rose had had the time to get a good look at what life would be without the Doctor when she'd been stuck for four long years in that dreadful parallel universe, and a single month had been enough to realize that she couldn't do _normal_ anymore. She needed the adventures, she needed the risks, she needed to feel useful. She needed the Doctor, more than anything else, to feel alive.

 

Rose put the book back on the shelf with a small smile tugging at her lips – and realized that a simple book and a simple thought of the Doctor were much more effective ways to wash the sleep away from her system than a coffee. She picked up the cup of tea that had remained untouched from the night before and made her way to the console room where she was sure to find the Doctor fiddling with some cables under the grating. But when she got there, it was all too silent apart from the low hum of the Tardis and the few bleeps the many buttons emitted. She shrugged it off and headed toward the kitchen, thinking he might actually be preparing her a cup of coffee. And sure enough, there he was. Bent over the counter, his lean back stretching the soft material of his blue shirt so much she could make out the shape of his angular bones and hard muscles. And seemingly very busy, his fingers coming to scratch the back of his head every few seconds and the tip of his worn chuck tapping the – rather dreadful, if Rose was honest with herself – pale green linoleum.

 

He hadn't noticed her, so she simply circled his waist from behind and planted a soft kiss on his shoulder.

 

 

"Hello, sunshine," she greeted with a smile.

 

 

The Doctor immediately stiffened and what sounded like a horrified shriek left his lips. Rose drew back with a gasp, surprised by his reaction and the volte-face he executed with less grace than a Dalek trying to ballet dance. In his haste to hide what was behind his back, he knocked over a small glass bottle, dozens of bright yellow pills raining down on the floor. Wide-eyed, he hurried to pick them up one by one and stuff them back into the bottle, ignoring the way his fingers shook and the thin layer of sweat that had coated his palms.

 

 

"Rose, what are you doing up this early?" he asked, his voice a pitch higher than he intended it to be.

"I've just... Slept enough, I guess," she shrugged, raising a suspicious eyebrow at him. "And what are you doing, exactly?"

"Oh, you know, just... Um, stuff?" he gave a tentative smile as he closed the bottle and put it away in his pocket.

"What are those pills?" she enquired – because she knew the Doctor enough to realize this definitely wasn't a normal behaviour, if the Doctor could be said to have a normal behaviour at all.

"Vitamins," he blurted out much too quickly for it to sound natural. "Just vitamins, nothing to worry about."

"Vitamins. Right. I can have some, then?"

"No," he almost shouted, shielding his pocket with his hand as if he was scared Rose would try to steal them from him. "No, I mean, they're specifically designed for my physiology. Some compounds could kill you. Don't want that to happen, do we?"

 

 

The Doctor tried to lighten the mood with a rather disheartened chuckle and rubbed his hands together in a vain attempt to conceal the fingers that were still trembling.

 

 

"So, coffee?" he offered with a smile, not even waiting for an answer to turn his back to her and fiddle with the coffee machine. "Caffeine is good, better than all those chemical vitamins you humans pop like candy. Although caffeine is also a very potent drug, you know, how your body gets used to it and it becomes less effective unless you increase the dose. You really should switch to hot chocolate in the morning, love, much better for your health."

 

 

Rose nodded slowly and sat down at the small table, unable to shake off the grim feeling that something was definitely wrong with the Doctor. The fact that he had slipped out of the sofa without waking her had been just a bit weird, given that he'd insisted on being there every morning to greet her with a charming smile and a kiss, but she understood it must be rather boring for him to wait for hours until she woke up. Nothing much surprising about him running off to occupy his hands and his head, she supposed. But the fact that he'd sneaked out of the room just to get some weird pills – because there was no way she could believe that they were even remotely comparable to vitamins – was intriguing. Even more so, worrying. Why would the Doctor even need vitamins? She had always known him as someone who, despite having very little need to sleep, was an ever energetic and enthusiastic man whose only fuel required was the adrenaline that was usually pumped in tremendous quantities in his bloodstream every time they went on an adventure.

 

Rose desperately wanted to know what they were, but when she opened her mouth he prevented her from asking any more embarrassing questions by stuffing brioche covered in strawberry jam into it. He gave her a bright smile as he put a steaming mug of coffee down on the table, all traces of anxiety and sheepishness gone from his face.

 

 

"How about a small trip to Vendea today?" he suggested, wiping the smudge of jam smeared on the corner of her lips with his thumb.

"Wha's tha?" she managed to ask, chewing on the large piece of brioche.

"Just a planet in the seventh system," he shrugged. "I need to run some errands there, shouldn't take long. There's a huge marketplace, you could do some shopping if you like."

"What kind of errands, exactly?"

 

 

Rose wanted it to be a perfectly harmless question, but the suspiciousness that tinged her words made the Doctor flinch almost imperceptibly and his eyes quint ever so slightly. She hated to doubt him, but she also knew he'd been lying about those _vitamins_. And on the very rare occasions when the Doctor lied to her, it was either because something horrendous was about to happen or because he wanted to protect her – sometimes both. That was why she couldn't help but wonder why he'd be lying about simple pills. It wasn't like him. Something was definitely wrong.

 

 

"There is just someone I need to meet," he simply answered, seemingly a bit offended that she felt compelled to ask. "You don't have to come. I'm sure there's plenty for you to do in the Tardis."

 

 

He paused for a second, his mouth pinched so tight and his eyes so dark that Rose felt a shiver run down her spine. She'd seen that face before. Except he usually kept that face for his enemies. He was angry. His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth and he shrugged with a heavy puff of air he blew through his nose, making his nostrils flare. 

 

"You know what?" he started, obviously struggling to keep his voice at a reasonable volume. "Might even be best if you stayed here, actually. I don't need a babysitter, watching over me, I'm not fifty anymore. "

"Honestly, Doctor?" Rose huffed, putting down her mug of coffee as he turned his back to her and ran a hand through his messy hair.

"Yes, _honestly_!" he mocked, throwing his arms into the air and swinging on his heels to face her again. "I can take care of myself, Rose Tyler, I'm more than a thousand and a half years old, I'm a grown-up Time Lord who don't need a twenty-five years old human to tell me what to do or to look after me as if I were a kid."

"Oh, I'm so sorry that I care too much about you, Doctor," she pretended to apologize, feeling as angry as he probably was given the cold stare he was aiming at her. "I'll do my very best to care less, I promise. Now go run your stupid errands while I stay here and try not to worry."

"But why would you even worry?" he scoffed, unconsciously flexing his right fingers as if they were getting tingly.

"Because this isn't like you!" she scowled. "Vitamins, Doctor? You really expect me to believe that?"

"Well, you should," he shot back as he tucked his hand inside his pocket to keep his fingers from shaking too much. "If you can't trust me on something as futile as pills, then maybe I was wrong to bring you back. That's not what I wanted. I wanted my Rose back, I wanted my lover, I wanted my friend. If I wanted an over-protective mum, which I _really_ don't, there would have been much easier options than cross the bloody fabric between universes."

"I'm not..." Rose started, his angry rant almost bringing tears to her eyes. "Fine, then. Go on. Go meet that someone, go... Do whatever you like, I don't care."

" _Fine_. I'll be back in two hours."

 

 

Rose watched with a ball in her throat as the Doctor rather violently kicked the door of the kitchen open and disappeared into the dark corridor without throwing her a single look back. Tears finally pricked the corner of her eyes until everything she was looking at got blurry with a thin layer of fog, as if she was looking at world through a lens covered in rain. She hadn't realized just how hard her heart was hammering against her ribcage, how her stomach kept churning, how her fingers had almost turned white for holding much too tightly onto the edge of the small table. They had had an argument. And the worst part was she couldn't figure out when or why it had started at all. She'd just asked an innocent question. Because she cared. Because she wanted to be sure he was safe. Because she knew something was off, because she knew he was lying. And nothing scared her more than an angry Doctor who lied. None of this bode well.

 

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and allowed herself a small sniff before she stood from her chair, leaving her coffee untouched on the table. She wanted a nice hot shower, she wanted to slouch on the couch in the media room and watch one of those dumb comedies that could make her laugh – if not, it would at least keep her mind off what had just happened until the Doctor got back. Just as she was about to open the door, hand already on the handle, she heard his quick steps and loud mumbles in the corridor. She waited until the sounds died down before she opened it and took a sneak peek towards the direction where he'd been headed. From afar, she watched as he punched buttons on the console, flicked switches and pulled on levers with much more force than necessary. If she hadn't been sure that something was wrong with the Doctor, the way he was now holding his right arm all while shaking his right fingers around with an undisguised grimace of pain would have been the last thing needed to convince her. It pained her to no end to know that he was suffering, and even more to know that he refused to tell her about it. She didn't care if it was because he was too proud and didn't want her to think he couldn't handle it, or because he was too scared and didn't want to appear to be weak, or because he was too considerate and didn't want to put the weight of his suffering on her shoulders. She would do everything she could to help him if he needed it.

 

Rose jumped with a shriek when a loud crash sounded behind her and she quickly turned on her feet to see one of the cupboard wide open and a glass that had exploded into dozens of pieces on the floor.

 

 

"Great," she muttered under her breath, crouching down to start picking up the broken pieces. "Today's gonna be just great. Marvellous."

 

 

She gathered the largest shards of glass in the palm of her hand with a sigh, ignoring the loud whir of the Tardis that could only mean the Doctor was off to meet his friend – or whoever he was supposed to meet, she didn't even want to know anymore. It was when she began to rise on her feet to throw away the broken pieces of glass that her eyes caught a sight of something small, round and yellow. One of his pills that must have rolled under the cupboard. She felt the encouraging hum of the Tardis inside her head and understood that the ship must have wanted her to find it. But why? _Out_ , the ship breathed into her mind through an emphatic melody a few images. So, the Tardis wanted her to go out there and find out what this pill really was. But how? _Yulrich_. That was the name written at the top of what looked like to be a store, a picture that imposed itself before her eyes thanks to the ship's telepathic abilities.

 

Rose let the small yellow pill roll into her palm as she stared at it. She wondered if it was such a great idea to go behind the Doctor's back to unveil the truth about those vitamins. He didn't want her to know, he'd made that quite clear, and she wasn't sure she wanted to be on the receiving end of one of his fits of anger twice in the same day. But then again, knowing what they were might be her only way to understand what he was going through and try to help him as best as she could. That was what mattered. He'd taken care of her so many times, it was time to return the favour, even he wasn't willing to let her to.

 

Decision taken, Rose tucked the small pill away in the pocket of her pyjama bottoms and headed for the bathroom to get ready, leaving the remaining broken shards on the floor.

 

****

 

 

Rose took a look at her watch and made a quick mental calculation. She had approximately an hour and a half before she'd have to go back to the Tardis and not be caught wandering by the Doctor when he'd be done with his important _errands_. She would have to be quick to find the shop the Tardis had shown her and be careful not to be spotted by the Doctor, should his meeting happen close to where she needed to go.

 

She pushed the door of the ship open, her heart pounding loudly in her chest because of her anxiety, and shivered when an almost apocalyptic landscape appeared before her eyes. True enough, it seemed to be a marketplace, just like the Doctor had told her there would be. But it most definitely wasn't a place she'd be willing to go shop. Dozens of small displays spread over a large square area delimited by old, grey buildings that looked as if they could collapse at any moment. Dark little streets slithered between the disfigured towers made of dull concrete that was starting to crack in some places, had entirely been peeled from the block stones in some others. The large black clouds that obscured the sky didn't help settle a reassuring mood, not did the heavy rain that poured over the dirty tarpaulins protecting the merchandise of the shopkeepers and streamed through the gutters drawn by the haphazardly placed cobble stones that made a rather uneven pavement.

 

Rose tugged her hood over her head and gathered every ounce of confidence and courage she could muster before heading to the nearest display. She tried not to stare at the various knifes and blades of all kinds that were neatly spread over a table covered by a frayed and moth-eaten red velvet sheet and cleared her throat with difficulty. The alien that stood behind the table didn't look particularly friendly with his long arms crossed over a massive chest clothed by a dark purple coat adorned with silver spikes, his black eyes narrowing ever so slightly when he noticed she wanted to talk to her. He bared his sharp, pointy teeth in a smirk when she nervously pulled on the sleeve of her jacket and bent over the table, their faces so close Rose could feel the hot and moist breath that came out of his dog-like nose in short puffs.

 

 

"Anything I can do for you, human?" he asked in a growl, clawed fingers coming to caress one of the blades.

"Do you know where I can find Yulrich?" she asked as she tried very hard not to let her voice waver.

 

 

The furry alien frowned as if he hadn't expected such a question coming from her and backed away again, pointing a finger towards one of the little streets she had wished wouldn't have been the way she needed to go. She thanked him with a small bow of the head and was quick to get away from him and his shop. She did her best to ignore how everyone was looking at her – probably because she stood out from all this inform mass of grey and black in her bright blue jacket – and picked up the pace, soon reaching the entrance of the street. She wasn't much reassured by what she was seeing. A street that seemed to have no end, stuffed into a sweltering darkness apart from the few neon lights that kept blinking on and off. It was all gloomy. She patted her pocket to feel the small matchbox inside which she had hid the pill, just to remind herself that she was doing this for the Doctor. She took a deep breath and marched into the street with long strides, eyes quickly going from one sign to the other, hoping that Yulrich's shop wouldn't be far.

 

After a few minutes, she sighed in relief when she finally spotted the name above a door, softly glowing with a green light. She pushed the door open and was pleasantly surprised to emerge into a pristine room that was so white compared to the rest of this dreadful place that it almost made her eyes hurt. There were a few unoccupied benches and a counter behind which a tall man in his fifties was scribbling some notes down. He looked human enough, but it wouldn't be the first time she'd let herself be fooled by simple appearances. She cleared her throat to announce her presence – because he obviously hadn't heard her come in – and when looked up to meet her eyes, she realized she'd been right to doubt her first assumption. The pink irises and triangle-shaped pupils, the lack of eyebrows and the small growth under his chin that she hadn't noticed because of his bent-over position couldn't be human.

 

Still, he greeted her with a warm smile and gestured for her to come closer, putting down his pen and crossing his hands over his desk.

 

 

"What can I do for you, young lady?" he asked with a warm, almost singing voice.

"Um, hello," she started, fiddling with the zip on her pocket. "I'm looking for Yulrich."

"Right place, right person," he smiled as she took out her small matchbox and carefully put it down in front of him.

"Someone sent me here," she explained, opening the box to show him the pill. "Is there anything you can tell me about this? I have a, um, friend, who's taking them, and he won't tell me what they are."

 

 

The alien picked up the pill from the box and brought it close to his right eye to examine it. Rose watched as his pupil grew so wide the pink of his iris almost disappeared, before it shrank down to a tiny black point lost in a see of fuchsia. It looked like the lens of a camera struggling to focus on a particular object, she thought as he rolled the pill between his fingers and started to write down a few words on a blank sheet of paper, muttering under his breath. Rose had no idea what he was doing, if he even could tell what this pill was made of just by looking at it, but she trusted the Tardis hadn't sent her there for no reason. She waited patiently until he put his pen down with a sigh, dropped the pill into its box and gave her a look that made her heart rate speed up dramatically.

 

 

"My... Sincerest condolences," he said softly, so softly that Rose wondered for a moment if she'd heard right.

"What do you mean?" she asked in a breath that made her realize her throat had turned so tight that he voice didn't even sound like hers.

"This isn't ordinary medicine," he started to explain, showing her what he had written – a quite extensive column of what Rose supposed to be chemical components that she couldn't recognize. "It's a rather impressive cocktail. The kind of medicine you'd take as a very last resort. Simple flu, cancer, mental illness, heart defects, allergies... That pill basically contains everything you need to fight off diseases. I'd call it a miracle pill if it didn't mean your friend probably is knocking on the doors of death. No biological system, no matter the species, can survive so many conditions at once. I'm terribly sorry, Miss. If your friend isn't dead yet, he'll soon be."

"Okay," she nodded although there was no way she could believe him. "Right, yes. Can I take that paper, please? I'd like to do some further research."

"Of course," he agreed, pushing the sheet of paper towards her – and she was quick to fold it and put it away in her pocket. "I'll keep the pill, if you don't mind."

"Sure, whatever," she shrugged weakly, already heading towards the door. "Thank you for your help. But... You're wrong. He's not dying. He can't be. He's not... Never mind."

 

 

Rose pushed to door open and felt as if she'd been swallowed by darkness. The small street felt even more dreary than before, the rain heavier, the wind colder. She buried her hands inside her pockets, not even caring that her hood had fallen back and that her long blond strands were now steadily dripping, beads of water rolling down her face and her neck. At least, the pearls of rain help covering up the tears that had started pouring out of her eyes. And the shivers than ran through her limbs were strong enough to hide her shoulders shaking with sobs.

 

She knew she should go back to the Tardis before the Doctor would realize she'd been wandering off again. She knew it wasn't wise to walk such streets alone, especially now that all her senses were dulled to the point she had trouble remembering what direction to go in. But now, she also knew that the Doctor had really been lying to her, and that was the only thing that really mattered. She should be crying because the Doctor was dying, but the way her stomach churned and her heart painfully contracted in her chest, the way bile of disgust rose in her throat and her hand clenched angrily around the paper in her pocket were enough to make her realize she was crying because he had betrayed her trust. He'd been keeping secrets when she used to think their relationship could withstand any kind of truth. For how long had he been sick? For how long had he been feeding her lies about his health? Rose was somehow convinced he'd been like that ever since he'd got her back. And that hurt more than anything else.

 

Her feet took her further along the street – maybe it was an entirely different one, she couldn't be sure as she hadn't even realized she'd been walking – and she ended up in front of what looked like to be a bar of some sort. A few aliens were sipping on greenish beverages and smoking enormous cigars, all while eyeing her with either smug grins or heavy looks of contempt. Sensing that he presence was not welcome, she quickly turned back on her heels and started to walk briskly in another direction. Fear took over hurt when she looked at her surroundings and realized there was nothing she recognized. Same old, decrepit buildings and houses, same small, dark alleys than ran in tiny vessels from the main street, same weird aliens roaming around. There was no way she could find her way back to the Tardis any time soon. She was lost.

 

* * *

 


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

 

 

As soon as he slammed the door of the Tardis shut behind him and found himself standing in the pouring rain, he closed his eyes and a sigh heavy with regrets left his mouth. He should have known better. He should have known she'd stick her nose where it didn't belong and want to know each and every one of his dirty little secrets. His fingers closed around his elbow in a vain attempt to soothe the pain running through his arm, but it only made the joint hurt more. He couldn't decide whether his now numb and cold fingers were a relief or another cause to worry. He tried to clench and unclench them, but only a slight tremor shook his hand and the tip of his fingers barely managed to move. Definitely worrying. He grabbed his useless hand by the wrist and stuck it inside his pocket, his anger coming back full force and drawing a dark grimace over his features. And he realized he wasn't angry with Rose. He was angry with himself.

 

Rose deserved better than this. He most definitely didn't deserve her. A liar. A fraud. A coward. Ever since she'd come back, he'd been lying to her. Making false promises, lies pouring out of his mouth even faster than his brain could make up. _You're just tired?_ he remembered the question she had asked just minutes after getting back into the Tardis. _Promise_. A hollow chuckle rose in his throat as his tongue burnt with the memory of that word, that simple word that had sealed his decision not to tell her about it. About what he'd done to see her again. The sacrifices he'd made so she could come back home. She didn't need to know. He didn't want her to know. He could picture her face much too accurately if she ever came to realize what was happening to him. Her lips parting in a silent sob. Her honey eyes filling up with unshed tears. The healthy pink flush of her round cheeks turning pale and lifeless. He wouldn't allow this to ever happen.

 

His rubber soles squeaked on the wet pavement as he started to walk towards the heart of the marketplace, the pouring rain drenching his long coat within seconds, the longer spikes of his wild mane made heavy with dirty water sticking to his forehead. The hand that still wasn't dead felt cold, much like the rest of his body. Yet another consequence of the curse that was now tied to him like a murderous shadow that always followed in his steps. He ignored the shivers that coursed down his body – a rather disagreeable feeling that he found hard to get used to, but still better than the excruciating pain that made him wish he could rip his arm off. An involuntary groan attracted the curious and suspicious looks of the few aliens gathered around a street lamp, so he quickly disappeared from their sight, turning left into one of the many forks delimited by the displays.

 

The pain was growing much too fast, much too strong, and he realized that because of the whole incident with Rose in the kitchen, he had forgotten to take his pill. That realization managed to freeze him to the bones way faster than the ice-cold rain that was relentlessly falling on his shoulders. A searing jolt of pain had him bend forward with a low wail, his free hand managing to prevent his fall by splaying against the nearby huge bin. Leaning heavily against it, he managed to reach inside the pocket of his trousers to take out the small vial that contained the pills that would ease his suffering. Sheer terror painted his features when he saw the soft orange glow shining through the many layers of sleeves he was wearing and he was quick to fumble with the cap of the vial and pop it open. His shaking fingers made slippery with the rain caused him to lose his grip on the small glass container and it crashed down onto the pavement, exploding into pieces, its precious yellow pearls rolling in every direction.

 

"No, no, come on," he whimpered as he fell to his knees, his nails raking against the hard concrete as he tried to gather as much pills as he could before they could dissolve into the rain.

 

The flames of the regeneration energy burning through his disabled arm felt like a thousand knives piercing his skin at the same time, like his bones were being trampled by the feet of an angry elephant and breaking into tiny shards, like every fibre of his muscles was being slowly picked away from the other with tweezers. It was agony. Through his tears, he somehow managed to see that four pills were now melting into the crook of his palm. He brought his hand to his mouth, choking on a sob before he could dart his tongue out and lick every remaining trace of the medicine. When he couldn't taste anything more that the dirt of the rain and the salt of his own sweat, he collapsed against the bin with a weak moan, cradling his painful arm against his chest, hoping to the deities that he'd ingested enough components to stop the process. The hundreds of chemical compounds he'd just swallowed combined with the fight his mind was putting up against the regeneration should be enough. Would be enough, he tried to convince himself. Because if it wasn't... Another shiver ran down his spine, and this time the cold and rain had nothing to do with it.

 

Rose. The only image that could slice its way through the mist of his pain and despair. The only image that could make his heart hammer harder and faster against his ribcage, that could soothe his tormented body and soul, that could make the sobs bursting out of his constricted throat dwindle into quiet cries. He couldn't leave her behind. He dreaded the thought of her, lost in a hostile universe with no one and nothing but a dying Tardis. He was terrified to even think about what could happen to her once he was gone. It was so unfair to her. She believed he was a Time Lord that could get to live centuries after her death; there was no decent way to confess he might kick the bucket long before she would. But he had to, he realized. If their fight had proven anything, it was that Rose was too clever for her own good. Even if he kept it a secret, she would find out, eventually.

 

All he'd only ever wanted to do was to protect her from the truth. Now he realized that telling the truth might be the only way to protect her. Keep her away from silly little investigations that might lead her into unwanted trouble – because he just knew that was how she worked. Prepare her for the moment she'd be left on her own. Teach her how to appease and fly the Tardis so she wouldn't get lost in the vastness of the universe. There were so many things he would need to do to make sure she would survive, and the sooner he told her, the better. He wouldn't let his precious Rose down.

 

He closed his eyes for a few more minutes, waiting for the pills to do their magic, praying that his fierce resolution to keep walking this universe until he could make sure Rose was safe would be a strong enough barrage against the regeneration. When the searing burn in his arm eventually dulled a little, he dared to pry an eye open and look down at the limb nestled against his chest. The soft orange glow had vanished. Good. Brilliant. It still hurt way beyond his most pessimistic expectations, but knowing he wouldn't regenerate on spot still made the pain a tad more bearable. It gave him time. It gave him hope.

 

With a low growl, he rose back on his feet, leaning heavily against the bin to give him some support. His whole body was still shaking, the remnants of the regeneration particles feeding on what little was left of his energy, and his legs wobbled for some time before he could coordinate his muscles enough to stand upright. He paid no attention to the tall blue alien that was mockingly smirking at him from the other side of the pavement – he was probably thinking he'd had one too many, like a vast majority of those who wandered these streets. The Doctor, with his lack of balance, his knees covered by stains of dirt and mud and his bloodshot eyes still full of tears, didn't look particularly sober indeed. He simply shrugged it off and when he was sure his legs would hold his weight, pushed himself away from the bin and stuck his debilitated hand back in his pocket – no need to leave it dangling stupidly on his side when it would only cause his injured arm to hurt even more with each of his steps.

 

The Doctor walked into the adjacent artery that opened on a dark street, his strides lacking his usual confident and energetic gait and the bottom of his coat flapping with less conviction than ever against the side of his legs. Thankfully, he knew where he was headed to and it wasn't far. He navigated the tiny streets without thinking about the route he was taking, his brain too preoccupied by the all the things he would need to tell Rose and all the reasons why everything could turn into one of the biggest mistakes he'd ever made. Would Rose hate him for not telling her the truth sooner? Would she be thankful for everything he'd done to get her back? Would she loathe the idea that he'd put his life at stake just to see her again? Would she be grateful or angry? Forgiving or condemning? Love him more? Love him less?

 

No matter how he turned all of this around, the conclusion was always the same. Rose cared too much. No way she could turn a blind eye to all of this. And he knew soft puppy eyes and a sheepish apology would never be enough to tame the tremendous rage that would burst inside her. Love was a powerful emotion, even more so when it was shaped into ferocious enmity. The line between love and hatred was thin. He feared his reckless decision would make her fall on the wrong side of that line. He would need to chose his words very carefully when he'd tell her about it. Very, very carefully.

 

"Back at last, Doctor."

 

 

The Doctor stopped dead in his tracks when the hissing, sizzling low voice erupted from a tiny nook between the two decrepit buildings on his left. He turned his eyes towards the source of that voice and saw the tall figure clad in a black toga, a similarly dark hood hiding its face in impenetrable shadows. He looked around to make sure there was no one and nothing that could listen to the conversation they were about to have and, once reassured, approached the friend he had told Rose he was to meet.

 

 

"Like I told you," the Doctor replied briskly.

 

 

The alien grinned, his sharp white teeth the only thing that could be seen from his face. The Doctor pinched his lips, repulsed by such a malicious smile that failed to conceal all the evil and the spite this being was made of. That made him realize just how much he loved the innocent smile on Rose's face. The full lips that drew into the brightest expression of joviality, the mischievousness of the tip of her tongue trapped between her teeth, the gleam in her eyes when she was aiming that particular smile at him.

 

 

"You found them?" the alien suddenly asked, drawing him out of his reverie.

 

 

That simple question had the power to make the pain in his arm roar back to life and he barely managed to stop the moan of pain from flowing past his lips. The way he rubbed his forearm against his will with a tiny quirk of the corner of his mouth was more eloquent than an answer to the alien, whom chuckled under his breath as he pushed himself away from the wall.

 

 

"So you did," he snarled with a wicked smirk. "How long have you got left? A week? A month?"

 

 

The Doctor blanched almost imperceptibly and swallowed hard, the column of his throat bobbing up and down. Hearing it from someone else made it real. He could have pretended that all that pain would have eventually fade, that these regeneration episodes were just ephemeral, that his unusual need for sleep was just a consequence of travelling with Rose again. Deep down, he knew they were just excuses he was making up to stop thinking about the inevitable. Make the cruel truth of his oncoming fate a bit more bearable. But now that his life expectancy had been reduced to two very simple, common, dull words, the realization that he had so little time left when he should have had hundreds, even thousands of years left to live, hit him hard in the guts. Made him sicker than he already was.

 

And then it dawned on him.

 

 

"How can you know that, Kuss?" the Doctor asked in a voice that was halfway between a growl and whisper.

"Because you've obviously signed the contract," he shrugged as if none of this was important.

"You knew this would happen?" he breathed out, his throat getting constricted because of his anger and despair.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you didn't ask," he simply answered with a shrug. "I told you I knew everything about the Eternal Prophets, but you didn't ask. I told you they were not to be taken lightly, but you didn't listen. I told you to consider every other option available before going to them, but you didn't hear. I tried to warn you, but you didn't care. You might not be dead just yet, but they've killed you. Just like they've killed a million others before you. Just because you were too impatient and too stupid."

"You should have stopped me," the Doctor spoke in a pitch higher that he intended to.

"Why? In case you haven't noticed, I'm not of the good kind. You wanted information, I wanted your help. Deal. Nothing more than that. You want to run head first into a wall, not my problem. Now, you got what you wanted, and I want what you promised. I suppose that's why you came. Even in death, you honour your pledges. If I didn't find nobility of heart so frivolous, I might like you, Doctor."

“I don’t need you to like me,” the Doctor huffed, keeping his voice under a whisper when he saw a person walk down the street behind them. “I just came to keep my promise anyway. We should go, I don’t have much time.”

“I suppose you don’t,” Kuss smirked, giving him a soft pat on the shoulder. “Want to spend the little time you have left with that human, don’t you?”

“Shut up,” the Doctor said between gritted teeth, wanting to get rid of that despicable and obnoxious alien. “Now move.”

“Oh, you should lead,” he offered as the Doctor started to shuffle impatiently on his feet. “Fizz has been moved to the Huxley prison. I can’t wait to see that Tardis of yours, Doctor.”

“Oh, no, that wasn’t the plan,” he grumbled under his breath. “I’m not taking you to the Tardis. I said I’d give you a hand to free Fizz from _this_ ,” - he pointed a thumb towards the old grey tower that rose above all the other buildings in the distance - “prison. Not Huxley’s.”

“You should have been here two weeks ago. You’re late. That wasn’t part of the plan either. Now, we both broke a clause of our contract, that makes us even. You still need to free Fizz. And I’m not letting you out of my sight until she’s out. So,” Kuss said with a rather condescending and threatening look, “lead on.”

“I’m not taking you back to the Tardis,” the Doctor repeated a bit more firmly, not impressed. “I don’t want Rose to see you, and I don’t want you aboard my ship.”

 

 

A sudden and roaring cry of pain echoed through the little street when the alien grabbed the Doctor’s arm and pressed his long, clawed fingers around his already sore limb, so tight the Doctor felt his blood pressure rise in his wrist, so fast and so hard that he truly believed his veins would burst. The gesture sent renewed, intense waves of pain through his whole body and his vision whitened out for a moment. He should have been able to fight him off – especially since Kuss was of the weak kind, long limbs that possessed so little muscles it was a wonder that he could even stand straight on their long feet, but all his strength, despite the superior Time Lord biology he more often that not bragged about, was being sucked out by the excruciating flames that burnt through his whole body.

 

The alien brought him down to his knees with an ease that made the Doctor cringe and bite his cheek so hard it drew blood, the coppery taste filling his mouth and flooding his tongue.

 

 

“You were saying?” Kuss said with a smile, looking upon him with an air of prideful victory.

“I am not taking you to the Tardis,” the Doctor said again as he tried, unsuccessfully, to shove him away with a weak push of his shoulder and awkward wobble of his arm.

“I don’t want to kill you earlier than strictly necessary Doctor, so let’s try again, shall we? You are going to take me to Huxley with your Tardis and you’re going to set Fizz free.”

“No,” he breathed out again.

 

 

Another scream from the Doctor’s exhausted form made one of the rare violet birds dozing off on the electric cables hanging loosely between the roofs take off in a panicked flutter of wings when the alien tightened his lithe but strong hand around his wrist. Tears sprang from the corner of his eyes and his vision suddenly got blurry, his scream muting into soft moans that fell from his lips in a continued string of laboured pants. The Doctor realized he might not have any other choice but to submit. This alien knew about his weakness, and the Doctor knew that if this kept going on for too long, he would eventually pass out. He didn’t want that. At that point, it was a risk he couldn’t take. If he fainted, he dreaded that his life essence would kept being sucked out from his body without him being able to control any of it. He didn’t fear death at all. He feared leaving Rose behind. A Rose that appeared to be out for a stroll when she was supposed to be waiting for him in the safety of the Tardis.

 

 

“Doctor? Is that you?”

 

 

The Doctor’s breath got in his throat when he heard her worried, trembling voice sound behind him, just a few feet away. He turned his face, wet with rain and tears, and saw his Rose standing there, dishevelled, strands of blond hair dripping with water stuck on the side of her face, her eyes wide with terror. She watched him slightly fall forward when the alien released his arm, but he was as quick to scramble to his feet as his fatigued body would allow him to.

 

Rose should have been relieved to see him. She had been wandering the long dark streets, lost and lonely, long enough to feel the first panicked somersaults of her stomach and the quickening of her heartbeat in her chest, step after step. She had taken so many turns that she would have been unable to say whether she was getting closer to the Tardis or further away. She had seen so many weird faces and gotten so many threatening looks that she had firmly believed she would eventually get mugged, or worse. She should have been relieved to find the Doctor by accident, relieved to know that she wasn't lost any longer, relieved to finally see his familiar figure in this otherwise sinister and murky place. But she wasn't. She felt even worse.

 

She took in the sight of him, a shiver running down her spine and fingers clenching and unclenching on her side as if she were willing to reach out to him but was unable to. Her eyes travelled up his body, each detail adding to her fright and sorrow. The coat and the suit trousers that were much too drenched and dirty for it to be only a consequence of the rain – he must have been sitting and kneeling on the flooded pavement more than once. The arm he kept cradled against his chest, his fingers kneading the flesh and muscles under the many layers of clothing in a soothing motion – he was hurting and it seemed as if he didn't even want to conceal his pain. The look of desperate apology, outlined by the dark circles under his eyes that suddenly struck her now that his face had turned milky pale, he was offering her. The quiver of his lower lip and the rapid blink of his eyes, vain attempt at hiding the tears she knew were mingling with the rain drops that fell on his skin.

 

Rose forgot that the reason she was here was the fight they had had a little more than an hour ago. She forgot that she was supposed to be angry with him because she couldn't find it in herself to feel anything else than pity.

 

 

"Rose," he whispered, his voice already breaking after that single word.

"What happened to you?" she asked in a breath with a concerned frown, taking a few steps towards him to put a gentle hand on his cheek. "What... What _is_ happening to you?"

 

 

Rose jumped when a raucous laugh came from behind the Doctor's back and it was only then that she noticed the tall figure clad in black half-hidden in the shadow. A long stride lead him standing next to the Doctor and his wicked chuckles turned into a smirk that somehow gave him the look of a cat that just caught a prey. Rose took a step back despite her want, her _need_ to be close to that sad and broken man who was but a pale copy of the man she loved.

 

 

"You haven't told her," the odd alien grinned, brushing his long fingers over the Doctor's shoulder. "Of course you wouldn't. Too proud. Or is it too scared? I wouldn't know, I'm not the one on the brink of death."

"What do you mean?" Rose breathed out just as the Doctor cringed with a frown and a moan of lamentation.

"Kuss, don't..." the Doctor tried to stop him – ineffectively.

 

 

The alien had already grabbed his wrist and tugged his weak and painful arm towards Rose, making sure that his palm was on prominent display in front of her eyes. Rose couldn't find anything wrong with that hand at first, but then she saw it. An intricate pattern made of geometric shapes in the crook of his palm, that shone with a soft blue glow in the dull light from the street lamp, seemed to be etched under his skin. It was so small that if it hadn't been pointed out to her, she probably would have never noticed it.

 

 

"Your Doctor has signed a contract with the Eternal Prophets," Kuss explained, his wicked smirk never leaving his mouth. "He'll be dead by the end of the week. By the end of the month, if he's lucky. Just because of you. The Doctor, killed by a silly little human. Both prodigious and pathetic, if you ask me. Anyway, you'll both have plenty of time to talk about the heartbreaking news when I'm gone. Hop hop, Doctor, to Huxley we go, preferably before you die that horribly painful death."

 

 

Rose stared in disbelief as the Doctor slowly nodded his agreement, despite the look darkened by ominous clouds he threw the alien over his shoulder. The alien's words were still ringing in her ears but she was unable to process them. Empty syllables, foreign sounds that echoed against her skull without finding a meaning. It didn't make any sense. She barely registered the fact that the Doctor was now holding her hand, his forehead pressed against hers, his lips moving and his breath caressing her face. He must have been talking – a wild guess that unconsciously made her shoulders rise and fall in a nonchalant shrug of approval. But the only thing she could hear was the monotonous rush of water in the gutters and the pouring rain hitting the pavement, relentless. Like the awful sound a radio would make when unable to pick up any station. A haunting, hypnotizing oppressive sound.

 

It was only when the door of the Tardis closed behind them and a monastic silence replaced that awful noise that she started to feel the weight of reality again. That she realized they'd been walking for long minutes under the rain, that they were back, that the silence she thought she was hearing was actually the sad hum of he Tardis. None of it mattered. What mattered was the Doctor. The man standing in front of her with so much sorrow in his eyes she believed she might drown in it. The man that was dying. And it still didn't make any sense. So she just leaned into his touch as his hand cupped her cheek, and her own hands clenched tightly around the lapels of his coat, pulling to draw him closer.

 

 

"You're soaking wet, love," the Doctor whispered, moving his hand to hold the base of her skull as she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder. "Can't stay like this or you'll get sick. You need a hot shower and dry clothes, okay?"

 

 

Rose didn't answer and simply let herself be led through the corridors to their room. Not one of his fanciest plan, but at least, it was something she could understand.

 

* * *

 


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

 

 

"Stay here, and don't touch anything," the Doctor ordered under his breath to the alien that was trailing his long clawed fingers over buttons on the console.

"Oh, don't give me ideas," Kuss sneered with a smirk.

 

 

The Doctor shot him a threatening look, fire and ice shining in the deep blackness of his eyes, and the alien just sighed and plopped onto one of the jump seat, stretching out his long legs and crossing his ankles.

 

 

"Fine," he drawled, taking out a small device from a pocket hidden in the many layers of his toga. "I'm just going to tell Fizz that we're on our way. Don't be too long, Doctor."

 

 

The Doctor nodded his agreement and gently took Rose – that hadn't moved, hadn't even blinked – by the elbow to guide her through the maze of corridors. It worried him to no end that she hadn't said a single word since Kuss had told her what was really going on, hadn't reacted in any way to the fact that he was dying. He had expected her to be sad, heartbroken maybe, even if he knew that was an immensely pretentious and selfish thing to think. He had expected her to be angry with him, furious that he had hidden something as important as his rapidly declining health and the awful death that would soon take his soul and body, the sword of Damocles falling on his head much earlier than he had ever anticipated or imagined. He had expected her to cry, he had expected her to yell, he had expected her to run away. He had never expected her to be like this. Mute as a tomb and indifferent to everything he said and did. It felt like this wasn't even his Rose anymore. Just an empty shell, a cold and shivering entity that was only animated by instinct, her free will and thoughts lost in an abyssal pit of nothing.

 

A comforting warmth and a soothing silence welcomed them as they stepped into their room, the only off-key sound perturbing the atmosphere being the wild chatter of teeth and the shallow breath that were coming out of her mouth. The sadness that took possession of his entire body when he looked at her had no end. The pain of a lifetime could not compare to the dysphoria that made his limbs as heavy as lead and his features distort into a grimace of grief as he watched the rain drenching her coat roll down the impermeable material and crash onto the carpet. It looked as if Rose was dying on the inside, even faster than he was, her life essence seeping out of her every pore, each breath bringing her closer to a fateful end. Like she was letting go of all their dreams, all their hopes for a better and brighter future she was holding in her hands. Like she was giving up on her promise of forever. And it was all his fault. He had ruined the most magnificent and the most extraordinary thing that had ever happened to him in more than a millennium-long life.

 

The Doctor could not ignore the guilt gnawing at his stomach, eating him from the inside and cause bitter bile that rose in his throat, but it didn't matter. What mattered was Rose and making sure she'd be alright. He carefully pulled down the zip on her blue jacket and slipped behind her, his fingers hooking in the collar before he tugged on it to divest her of the soaked garment. It made him wince to feel that she was opposing no resistance at all, her body even tipping backwards as it followed the movement of the pull, and he had to help her straighten back on her feet with a gentle push between her shoulder blades and a firm hand splayed over her hip. When he was sure she wouldn't fall over, he threw the jacket on the desk chair and went to one of the many cupboards to take out a clean tee-shirt, a pair of sweat pants she liked to wear on lazy days in the Tardis, some underwear and a sweatshirt in case she'd feel cold – even if it looked as if she wasn't feeling much of anything in that moment.

 

 

"Come on, love," he said softly, wrapping his free arm, the right one, the hurt one, around her waist to lead her inside the bathroom. "You'll feel much better after this."

 

 

He put down the neatly folded clothes on a free-standing standing cabinet and quickly went to fiddle with the shower tap mixer to leave the hot water running and make sure she wouldn't turn on the cold water inadvertently – given her current state, he believed that that was a likely possibility, if she managed to turn the water on at all.

 

 

"I'll leave you to it, then," he told her with a smile he was sure resembled a horrifying grimace. "Just call me if you need anything, I'll wait in the bedroom."

 

 

The Doctor sighed when no answer came, not even the slightest nod, and he kissed her on the forehead before he left and closed the door behind him. He let himself fall on the bed, his back meeting the comforter with a soft swoosh, and he found himself staring at the dark red ceiling, tears rolling down his temples before he could stop them. He had been in the exact same position the morning before, listening to the sound of the running water in the bathroom. A chuckle had left his lips when Rose had yelled at him that she could hear his dirty thoughts, his smile hadn't died down for a whole hour after this – nothing could make him smile more than a Rose that had just stepped out of the shower, a towel tightly wrapped around her body still glistening with water. He remembered just how happy it had made him to think that Rose was here with him. He remember the pleasant flutters in the pit of his stomach when she had aimed her signature tongue-touched grin at him. He remembered her laugh when his mouth had gaped open when she'd dropped the towel to change into her underwear, and he remembered the heat of their mouths meeting in a lazy snog that had followed.

 

But he also remembered the tingling sensation in the tip of his right fingers and the pain radiating in his arm when her hand had found his, and that was enough to bring him back to the hatred and the sorrow of the moment. Hatred he felt for himself, sorrow he felt for her, both making the silent tears falling from his eyes heavier with each furious and painful pang that walloped his guts. They burnt, but he liked it. He deserved the pain.

 

The sound coming from the bathroom suddenly struck him as odd. When Rose was showering, she was usually singing, making more noise than necessary and cursing loudly when lather got into her eyes. He could hear her voice ring against the walls, he could hear the pop of the shampoo bottle opening, the splashes of water and lather as she washed her hair, her feet almost dancing in the puddle of water. But now, all he could hear was the water running – and he just knew from the sound of it that it wasn't raining down on the tiles. He stood up and slowly approached the door, pricking his ear to make sure he was hearing right.

 

 

"Rose, are you okay?" he asked, loud enough for her to hear through the door.

 

 

He repeated her name once, twice, and when no answer came his hand found its way towards the handle. He bit his teeth into his lip and he realized that he was scared. Terrified. Who knew what a depressed Rose might do? He most certainly didn't, not when he'd always known her to be cheerful and full of life.

 

 

"I'm coming in," he managed to say despite his wavering voice and constricted throat.

 

 

The Doctor pushed the door open and his breath got caught in his lungs at the sight that greeted him. Rose, standing in the shower, head tilted up and hot water splashing over her face. Still fully clothed, eyes closed and body wavering slightly from one side to the other.

 

 

"Rose?" he whispered, unable to refrain himself from taking a few steps towards her. "What are you doing?"

 

 

His hearts missed a beat both as her head slowly lowered, inch by inch, until it was level with his. Her eyes shot open and a shiver ran down his spine when he saw the two honey jewels stare at him, with a fiery spark he might have mistaken as lust mingled with desire if it weren't for the dreadful situation they were in. They shone with rough passion and fierce resolve – something he definitely hadn't expected. He thought this was the first time since the night before that she really was looking at him. Looking _through_ him. Just like his Rose would do.

 

The Doctor gasped when she reached for his tie and grasped it in a firm grip, before she tugged rather harshly and compelled him to join her under the spray of hot water. He barely had time to register what was happening that she was pressing into him, pushing him back against the wall, his back smashing against the tiles. Her hot mouth crashed against his in a hard, demanding kiss, and he couldn't help the moan the rose in his throat despite knowing that this was wrong. So very wrong. Especially when one of her feverish hand slithered down his body to settle on his crotch.

 

 

"Rose, stop this," he wheezed between two of her raw kisses. "Please, stop."

 

 

When she didn't, her bold hand starting to rub against the coarse fabric of his trousers and her teeth digging so hard into his lips he could feel the flesh hurt in protest, panic started to bubble in the pit of his stomach and he tried to swat her hand away.

 

 

"Rose, I..."

"You're not dying," Rose gnarled against his mouth, her tongue fighting to break the seam of his lips. "Show me you're not dying. Tell me you're not dying."

"Rose, stop," he begged as he turned his head to the side to evade her ferocious assault.

 

 

Somewhere in the small part of his mind that wasn't preoccupied by what she was doing, the Doctor realized those were the first words Rose had told him since their fight. Terrible words that reminded him of the truth he had tried to keep her away from. Words that were the exact reason why he hadn't wanted to tell her sooner. She was terrified. She was lost. She was desperate. She was angry. She was everything he didn't want her to be in that moment. She was nothing like the Rose Tyler he loved and adored.

 

The Doctor grabbed her wrist in one moment of lucidity and tried to push her away, but her hands managed to fist into the lapels of his jacket and shake him roughly, as roughly as her weak arms could. His hearts broke when he finally saw that what he thought was rolling down her cheeks was just water from the shower actually were heavy tears. He let his back slam repeatedly against the tiles as she shook him, unable to deny her the sweet relief that this outburst of anger must have been bringing her. She was right to be angry. He deserved the pain that the shock of the numerous impacts against the wall sent rippling through his arm.

 

 

"You are not dying," she repeated, voice between a growl and a sob, her hands momentarily leaving his body before her little fists started to make weak punches rain down over his shoulders and chest almost faster than the water coming out of the shower head. "You are not dying."

"Rose, I..." he tried to say, feeling his own tears threatening to pour out of his eyes.

"You're not dying!" she eventually yelled, the noise echoing against the shower walls and making his ears ring.

 

 

The Doctor gulped down a cry of pain when the palm of her hand met his cheek with a loud slap, and this time there was no misreading the rage that had transformed her eyes into two black chasms that could have swallowed him alive. He realized he'd been wrong. She wasn't feeling nothing. She was just feeling everything at once. That made it impossible to cope.

 

 

"You have no right to be dying on me!" she went on, still screaming, accompanying each of her words with other slaps and blows – too weak to physically hurt, but eloquent enough to sent powerful jolts of pain through his hearts and mind. "You don't get to bring me back just to die two months later! You have no right to leave me behind, not now! I gave up on everything for you, I forbid you to give up on me! I forbid you to die!"

 

 

Each macabre truth leaving her mouth in a piercing, thrilling shout felt like a dagger in his chest, but he was almost thankful for it. He wanted the pain. He _needed_ the pain. He needed to feel what she was feeling in that moment. He needed the weight of the guilt that matched his betrayal. He needed the tight clench of shame around his hearts. He needed the torrents of remorse flooding in his veins.

 

The final blow brought to his hearts, the blow that shatters them into thousands of little pieces, struck when Rose closed her eyes and stopped hitting him. She simply closed her eyes, let her screams die down into tiny, sad whimpers, and her head fell under his own weight to land against his shoulder.

 

 

"I'm sorry," she sobbed softly, arms coming around his slim waist to draw him into a lax hug. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh, Rose," he says, voice straining and barely capable of groping its way out of his throat. "Don't. Please, don't."

 

 

That was the last thing he wanted. The Rose that would forgive him when he wanted her anger, the Rose that would understand when he wanted her rejection, the Rose that would keep loving him when he wanted her hate.

 

When he felt her legs starting to give out under her, he helped her sit down in the shower and cradled her body shaking with cries against his chest. He lifted his arm to turn off the shower – the sound and the feel of water were growing heavy and uncomfortable on them both – but he regretted his move the moment all he could hear were the wails she was trying to smother and the sobs she was trying to muffle in the crook of his shoulder. He couldn't think of anything to say to alleviate her pain, so he settled for rocking her gently in his arms, pressing soft kisses on the top of her drenched hair. It took long, painful minutes, but her cries eventually died down, her soft and peaceful breathing almost prompting him to believe she had fallen asleep. Almost.

 

 

"You're not dying," Rose suddenly mumbled against the skin of his neck – maybe she believed that if she said it enough times, it would become real, the Doctor reckoned. "I don't care how, but I'm gonna save you. I'll find a way. I won't let you die."

"There is no way, Rose," he whispered with a sorry shrug, playing absent-mindedly with a strand of her hair.

"Shut up. Just... Shut up, for once in your life, just shut your bloody mouth. We'll find a way. We always find a way."

 

 

The Doctor let a soft, sad smile cross his face for just a second. It amazed him that this tiny, fragile human could still find the strength to fight even after everything that had happened. He could feel it in the way her fingers clenched tightly around his collar, in the way her voice spoke without the tiniest of faltering, in the way her body buzzed with a fierce resolve. She wasn't trying to reassure him or herself. She was firmly convinced they'd eventually find a solution to a problem that had none. He wanted to tell her not to get her hopes too high, because he knew his situation was hopeless, but he couldn't find it in himself to break her heart and bring her down for the umpteenth time within the frame of a single day. He'd let her believe, if only for a few hours, before he'd have to spill the whole truth out. They would need to have a long, very long talk. He didn't want to spend the little time they had left together living a lie. He wouldn't add to the burden of his betrayal.

 

He jumped ever so slightly when Rose sneezed against his shoulder and murmured a soft apology.

 

 

"You're getting cold, love," the Doctor whispered, starting to stand up and dragging her body up with him. "You really need to have that shower, now."

"You need one, too," she said just as softly, running her fingers on the drenched material of his suit.

 

 

Rose fiddled with the buttons on his jacket and popped them off, one after the other, then slid it off his shoulders. She did the same with the shirt, and the Doctor noticed just how careful she was being with his right arm, tugging on the sleeve with just enough force not to cause any discomfort. The rest of their clothes quickly followed, piling up in a corner of the shower, and it was with a quiet sigh of relief that they welcomed the spray of hot water on their bodies. The Doctor shivered when Rose brought his right hand to her lips and planted an open-mouth kiss right atop the blue, still glowing mark etched under his skin, as if she wanted to seal her promise to make him better. He watched as she reached for the bottle of his favourite shower gel and squeezed a large blob into her hand. She started to massage his shoulders, fingers digging into his muscles, her eyes staring into his.

 

 

"You're so tensed," she murmured, so lowly the Doctor thought she might have said it to herself. "Just relax, yeah?"

 

 

The Doctor tried to do as he was told, his shoulders slumping a little when her thumb kneaded one of the hard knots at the junction of his neck – and he was finding out that she was right. He could feel the strain in his muscles slowly subsiding as she pressed her fingers into his skin, and while he hadn't been minding much, he realized that he was starting to feel much better. He closed his eyes with a soft sigh of relief as he let Rose work her sweet magic on him, all the tension that had been feeding on what little was left of his energy being washed away and sucked into the drain along with the water and lather bubbles. Her hands moved to his upper arms and kept rubbing in circular motion, only stopping when they reached his elbows – it seemed she didn't want to hurt him more than he already was. Her fingers trailed up his arms again in a feathery caress and they stopped a moment over his clavicles, as if she was trying to decided what to do next. A shiver coursed down his spine when she scratched her nails over the outline of his pectorals, through the coarse hair smattering his chest, and a loud gasp left his lips when her thumbs brushed, seemingly with a definite purpose in mind, against his nipples.

 

 

"Rose, don't," he groaned, unconsciously bringing his hands to her hips.

"Don't what?" she asked in a whisper, her lips hovering over the tender skin just below his ear. "Don't pity shag me? Don't want me? Don't love me?"

"A bit of all that," he confessed, doing his best to ignore how very close Rose was, how very naked she was, how very keen on driving him mad she was.

"You think I'm doing this because I pity you? You really believe that? You really think I don't want you and don't love you?"

"You'd be right not to," he said between two laboured breaths. "I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you."

"That means," she started, dropping kisses down his neck, then up the column of his throat until her lips settled on the tip of his chin. "I have failed to show you how much I love you. How much you deserve every inch of me. And I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, my Doctor. I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me about what's happening to you. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed it. I'm sorry."

 

 

The Doctor wanted to protest, but his attempt was quickly squelched when Rose kissed him softly, cupping his cheeks in her palms. Their lips parted with a soft pop and the Doctor felt his hearts burst into a wild gallop as Rose looked up to his eyes, her honey irises almost entirely swallowed by the black of her pupils. Her hands went back to his chest, caressing a path down his sternum, and his whole body was left shivering and trembling under her touch. Another gasp echoed in his throat, her fingers tracing his areola in a gentle motion, and he had to fight the urge he felt to push her away. He would be lying if he'd say that he didn't want any of this, but he couldn't help the grim feeling that made his stomach churn that maybe, just maybe, this was only happening out of pure commiseration for a dying soul. Rose felt his hesitancy and pressed her body further into his.

 

 

"I'll always want you," she said in a tone and with a look that left no doubt in his mind that she was speaking the truth. "I'll always love you. I came back for you. Don't ever insult me and suggest that I made the wrong choice. This isn't pity. This is love. And if you can't understand the difference, then let me show you. Trust me. Love me like I love you."

 

 

And the dam broke. The Doctor finally understood the meaning of her words. He understood how she was feeling because deep down he knew what she was feeling was the exact same thing he was feeling for her, and he regretted not seeing this sooner. He had doubted the most extraordinary, the most magnificent and the most loving being he'd been blessed with. But no more doubting. They were together into this, their lives were entwined and he was willing to share everything he had to share with that beautiful human.

 

He leaned into her touch, letting the flames of desire he had tried so very hard to tame until now lick at his entire body, letting himself enjoy and feel the touch of her fingers like he had never done before. Each caress and each brush against his skin felt heavenly, the contrast between their tenderness and the wild sparks of pleasure they awakened heightening his senses to their highest point. It was slow, it was soft, but he loved every second of it. Her hands skidded down his ribs as her lips found his in a gentle, unhurried kiss, and they settled of his hips. Her thumbs drawing small circles on the soft skin at the junction of his legs, her teeth went to nip at his jaw and he had to throw his head back against the tiles with a moan when her fingers brushed against the erection he hadn't managed to keep at bay. It couldn't be otherwise when all he could feel was the heat and the softness of her body, her lips on his skin, her breasts pressing against his chest, her breath against his face, and the love that was pouring out of her every move. She was making him feel more alive than he'd had for a long time. His precious Rose.

 

He groaned softly in the back of his throat when she wrapped her warm fingers around him and started to give him a few lazy strokes. It felt different that what he was used to, but in that moment it felt like a very good different. There was no frantic moves, no erratic thrusting to chase after his release, no clash of teeth, no hard nips, no messy kiss. His hips bucked a few times of their own volition – particularly when her thumb brushed against his head and her other hand pulled gently on his wet hair – but it was otherwise silent, her soothing motions and comforting presence enough to quench his thirst for more. He didn't need more. She was already giving everything he could possibly yearn for.

 

 

"I love you," she murmured against his lips, her pace picking up ever so slightly. "Don't ever forget that. I love you."

 

 

The Doctor bit into his lips and closed his eyes forcefully, her words fuelling the coil of desire and longing tightening in the pit of his loins. All it took was a deft flick of her wrist and a tiny bit harder squeeze for him to come quietly, only a soft ragged breath leaving his mouth half-open with pleasure. After the fog of bliss had dissipated a little, he realized that he hadn't, hadn't even thought about what Rose might want. She just had the sketch of a content smile drawn across her features and her eyes full of felicity, and he couldn't believe anyone could be that selfless.

 

"Rose, do you..." he started, unsure of what to say next.

"It's alright," she reassured him with a kiss on his cheek, brushing her knuckles up his belly and torso. "I'm alright. Are you?"

"Yeah," he breathed out, pressing his lips against the back of her hand when it came close enough to his mouth. "We're alright."

 

Rose gave him a soft smile and reached for the bottle of shower gel again, then started to lather some gel over his right arm – and that it somehow didn't hurt as much when it was her gentle fingers touching him – picking up where she had left off. His right hand was still unresponsive, still feeling lifeless, but he saw how careful she was when she brought it up to rinse it under the hot spray. She looked at it for a few moments and he couldn't decide on which words to use to describe the emotions that reflected in the depth of her irises. Something between fury and desolation, he supposed. Not good either way.

 

 

"Doesn't look that bad," she attempted a half-hearted quip to make him feel a tad less anxious. "Horrible tattoo design, though."

"It's not... Really a tattoo," he said with a frown of disgust.

"I figured," she simply said as she began to wash his other arm. "We need to talk, Doctor. Really talk. No more hiding things from me, no more lies."

"After Kuss is gone," he nodded his agreement, twining his fingers with hers when they reached his hand. "I'll tell you everything, I promise."

"You'd better," she confirmed with a gentle slap on his shoulder. "Or I might kill your stupid alien arse myself."

 

 

Their chuckles that fell from their lips died down quickly when the gravity of the situation dawned on them both again. The Doctor was sure Rose hadn't missed the flash of sorrow that had shone in his eyes and the way his shoulders had slumped almost imperceptibly. She offered an unconvincing smile of comfort and drew him into a tight hug, nestling her face into the crook of his neck.

 

"If you've taught me one thing, it's that impossible doesn't mean anything in this God forsaken universe," she whispered, rubbing soothing circles between his shoulder blades. "Even if there's no way, we'll find one. We always do."

"I ... I guess we do, yes," he conceded, distractedly rolling a strand of her wet hair around his index.

"And we will," she insisted in a tone that left him no other choice but to agree. "We will find a way and save you."

"Okay, we will. Yeah, we will."

 

 

The Doctor had no idea why, because he knew he was doomed, but somehow, he believed her. He believed in her.

 

* * *

 


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

 

 

“How is he?”

 

 

The tallest creature stepped inside the stone circle drawn on the cobalt floor, his long brown cape trailing behind him, a small cloud of dust rising in its wake. His slitted eyes focused on the image before him, a living painting made of large blobs of colours and irregular brush strokes that would have represented nothing more but the fantasy of a kid discovering art tools for the first time. The longer he looked at the picture moving into the mirror that reflected the only thing he was interested in the moment, the brighter the blue mark in the palm of his hang glowed – much like the twelve others belonging to his confrères.

 

 

“Weakened, but very much alive. That was to be expected. He’s a Time Lord after all.”

“He holds so much power.”

“And so much life.”

“I can already feel his energy run through me.”

“Imagine what it’ll feel like when he’s dead.”

“Soon, we’ll rise again, my Brothers.”

 

 

A shared snicker cracked the air and the Eternal Prophets stared at the animated picture with the same smirk that made their gaping lipless mouths open even wider. Twelve mouths belonging to the Prophets so enthralled by their growing power and the promise of eternity standing before them that they didn’t see the cloaked figure take a few steps back and get away from their group.

 

The lone prophet tightened her hood around her rectangular face and disappeared in a dark corner, out of sight. Her eyes started to glow red as she focused her telepathic abilities to their maximum potential, and soon she tuned in on the frequency she was looking for.

 

 

_Come to me, Doctor. Come to me, before it’s too late._

 

* * *

 


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

 

 

“ I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

  
  


The Doctor felt his fingers twitch as he fought the urge to run his hand over his face. Of course she would say something like that. He didn’t want her to come with him and Kuss to that bloody prison, he didn’t want her to meet Fizz, and he definitely didn’t want her worried eyes on his back every step he’d take. He understood her reasons and he knew he was in no position to argue – probably never would be again, so he settled for a disinterested shrug of agreement and simply took her hand with a sheepish smile.

  
  


“ Ready to see Huxley, then?” he offered with a tad too much cheerfulness for it to sound convincing. “Fair warning, it’s just a giant Alcatraz sitting on an asteroid, nothing interesting or pretty about it,  _ although _ ...” he immediately tried to backpedal when he saw her raised eyebrow that dared him to find him one more reason to stop her from coming, “I guess it has its charm if you’re into… You know, millennia-old prisons and dangerous serial killers from all around the universe.”

“ Stop trying to scare me off, Doctor,” Rose warned, pushing a fingertip in the middle of his sternum. “It won’t work. Let’s just go, your  _ friend _ is waiting for us.”

“ Quite right. He’s not really a friend, though, more like a helping hand. An ugly hand covered in blood, but helping nonetheless. I won’t tell you the kind of things he’s done, but...”

“ No, you’re right,” she interrupted with a quick but gentle pull on his hand. “You won’t. Now get a move on.”

“ Ooh, I missed bossy Rose Tyler,” the Doctor grinned with a wiggle of his eyebrows, trying to lighten the mood. “Shall I address you as Ma’am? Boss?  _ Jefe _ ? Or maybe  _ général _ , like it,  _ allons-y, général,  _ sounds nice, suits you, I think I...”

“ Doctor, I don’t mean to be rude and I love you the way you are, but sometimes I wish I could press a mute button to make you stop blabbering nonsense, especially when we have more important things to focus on.”

“ Right, yes, Kuss, Huxley, Fizz, got it,” he nodded as they were about to emerge into the console room. “Shouldn’t take too long. Come on.”

“Wait,” Rose stopped him with a hand splayed over his chest. “Before we go, don’t you need… You know. To take you medication?”

  
  


The Doctor gave a sheepish shrug, but still reached inside his pocket to take out another vial of the bright yellow pills - it seemed the Tardis had found useful to refill a whole cabinet in the bathroom, which had made him scoff at first, until he’d had to swallow a handful of them to prevent another regeneration episode. He dropped three capsules in the crook of his palm and stuffed them into his mouth without ceremony, wincing slightly as he swallowed all of them at once. 

  
  


“Satisfied?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and a tight rub over his belly.

“I am,” she answered softly, giving his cheek a tender caress of her fingertips. “All set, then?”

“Yep,” he confirmed, popping the last letter of the word before he took her hand. “Let’s go.”

  
  


True to his word, Kuss was still sprawled on one of the jump seat when they made their apparition, and for the first time since she’d met him, Rose realized how ugly that alien was. His long black toga was riding up wiry, insect-looking arms covered in grey scales that ended with four long fingers to which chipped nails were attached. He had removed his hood to reveal two orange oval eyes that weirdly didn’t reflect any light and seemed to lack any kind of eyelids. His sharp teeth were barely concealed by a thin lower lip which drew a mouth that ran from one cheekbone to the other. He didn’t possess any ear, nor any nose, and she took a few seconds to realize that the flaring slit she spotted on his chin might actually be the only orifice he was breathing through. But the ugliest thing about him was his apparent slyness and deleterious nature, that transpired from his every move and every look. Even his mouth, which was probably naturally always stretched into a mischievous grin, gave the uncomfortable feeling that he was perpetually plotting something evil. 

 

Rose did her best to ignore the unpleasant shiver that flowed down her spine when Kuss got up and darted his tongue out to lick at his sharp teeth, finding comfort in the Doctor’s hand that was loosely clasped around hers.

  
  


“Should we go?” the alien asked, spreading his arms towards the console, invitation for the Doctor to take his place behind the control panel.

“The faster, the better,” the Doctor muttered under his breath, accompanying his words with a dark look.

  
  


The Doctor let go of Rose’s hand and marched towards the console, steadfastly neglecting to take the small gun Kuss was handing him.

  
  


“We won’t need any of that,” he grumbled, pulling on a lever with a bit more force than strictly necessary. “Sometimes, violence is not the only answer. Put that away.”

“As you wish,” Kuss shrugged, slipping the weapon back between folds of his toga.

  
  


The Doctor switched another lever, pressed a button and reeled some kind of weird mechanism Rose had only seen him use once or twice, and the time rotor was spurred to life, its characteristic wheezing sound echoing through the console room as they dematerialized from the time vortex and started their journey to Huxley. She couldn't pinpoint exactly how, but Rose somehow knew that the Tardis was reticent to go there. And given the way the Doctor kept caressing the long glass tube with his fingertips and murmuring words of encouragement, it seemed that he could feel it too. It worried Rose to no end that the ship didn’t want to go there, because she couldn't help the gnawing feeling that something horrible was bound to happen. After all, the sentient ship had never acted that way before, its merry hum taking them to dozens of places where they had more than once risked their lives or missed to lose a limb by a hair’s breadth without an ounce of consideration or a single warning.

 

Rose approached the Doctor and slipped a hand to the small of his back, leaning towards him so she could whisper to him without Kuss overhearing.

  
  


“Everything alright?” she asked softly, resting her chin on the tip of his shoulder.   
“Yeah,” he nodded with another gentle brush of his fingers against the console. “She just doesn’t like that place much. There are a few prisoners there that we know all too much, and we usually avoid going there when we can. But don’t worry, love, we won’t stay long.”

  
  


The Tardis finally rematerialized after another minute, the grating shaking a bit more than usual under their feet and her groaning lacking its usual conviction. The Doctor turned around to press a quick kiss of reassurance on Rose’s forehead, then motioned for Kuss to follow him to the door with a curt nod. Rose grimaced in disgust when she noticed just how excitedly happy the alien seemed to be, marching in the Doctor’s steps with an insufferable air of pride and overjoy - she could tell from the mouth that was now drawn higher up on his cheekbones and the eyes that somehow managed to glint despite their lack of reflection.  She took a deep breath to keep the flow of mutters she felt coming tucked inside her lungs and followed suit, zipping her hoodie up and tightening the ponytail she had tied her hair into. 

 

Rose stepped outside the Tardis, and the surprise that hooked her stomach had her mouth gape and her eyes stare wide in shock at her surroundings. Far from the dark, bleak environment she expected, she was standing on a large glass footbridge enclosed by shiny white walls, spotlights sticking out of its otherwise smooth surface every few feet. If she hadn’t known that this was a high security prison built on asteroid somewhere lost at the far end of the universe, she might have believed that she was visiting some kind of modern museum or high-tech facility - much like the Torchwood corridors where she’d spent far too many days walking around. The only clue given about the nature of that place were the dozens of little security camera that dotted the ceiling, a tiny blue light flicking on and off at regular intervals. Rose had the disagreeable sensation that she was being watched, and it got worse when she took a few tentative steps to join the Doctor, making one of the camera buzz softly as it followed her course. 

  
  


“That place gives me the creeps,” she whispered to the Doctor, who was hand deep in his inside pocket in search of something.

“You haven’t seen the half of it,” he shrugged just as he took out his psychic paper from the folds of his long coat. “Wait until you see the cells. And the prisoners. You can still go back,  you know.”

“No way I’m leaving you with him in here,” she shook her head vehemently. “Let’s just make this quick.”

“Agreed,” the Doctor nodded with a gentle squeeze on her hand. ‘’Come on, Kuss. I want to get rid of you just as much as you want to get rid of me, so just do as I told you and let’s get this over with. Don’t talk, don’t wander off, don’t pull out any tricks, and everything will be fine.”

“As if I would,” Kuss huffed, tugging his hood back over his head as if he wanted to avoid being seen by the cameras. “I know enough about this hellish place not to try anything stupid.”

  
  


The Doctor seemed somewhat relieved that his alien companion of the day was clever enough to realize that this was no place to mess around, but his face still tightened into a determined look as he started to make his way to the white panel at the end of the corridor. It reassured him a little to feel the weight and the heat of Rose’s hand in his and to hear the rapid click of Kuss’ heels on the glass behind him - at least he wouldn’t be alone this time. He remembered his last visit to this twisted prison much too vividly despite it having happened a few centuries back, and a shiver ran down his spine when he recalled the one moment he’d seen death, real death without any hope of regenerating, from so close that he’d truly believed he’d seen the bright light every species seemed to be seeing when falling asleep for the very last time. Kuss might have been what came close to a clichéd heartless villain and he might have despised him with all his might, but here, on this asteroid, in this prison, the Doctor was glad to have him on his side.

 

They reached the panel a minute later, and Rose’s breath itched in her throat when a hologram appeared before them, showing a weird-looking humanoid peering at them from behind a desk.

  
  


“State your purpose,” the alien asked, his croaking voice echoing in the long corridor and making their ears ring unpleasantly.

  
  


The Doctor stepped forward, allowing Rose to shuffle close to his back and partially hide behind him while Kuss remained at a reasonable distance with his arms crossed above his chest. He flashed his psychic paper with a stern look and straightened his back to try and give himself some composure and poise, even though the simple sight of that alien almost made him bounce anxiously on the balls of his feet.

  
  


“Vice Architect of the Shadow Proclamation,” the Doctor managed to introduce himself without choking on his words, despite his tight throat and dry tongue. “I demand you free prisoner TR27-4, known as Fizz Ker Mann.”

  
  


The odd alien seemed to ponder his request for a moment, and Rose was scared the Doctor’s lie hadn’t sounded convincing enough -  maybe because she knew his voice too much, and she’d picked up on the slight difference of pitch, just a tad higher than it usually was, and the barely noticeable tremolo at the end of his sentence. The weight of the silence was turning heavier, more stifling at each second that ticked away. Kuss started to drum his longer fingers on his arm, staring impatiently at the hologram from the darkness of his hood. Rose, suddenly too hot, felt a pearl of sweat roll down her spine and nervously chewed the inside of her cheek. The Doctor’s fingers, the good ones, were tightly curled into a fist, the only hint pointing at his anxiety being the knuckles steadily losing their colour until it faded to a milky white. The tension broke when they jumped in unison, as a small hatch fell open on the side of the door, and the Doctor’s shoulders sagged a little under the wave of relief that coursed through him.

  
  


“Deposit every weapon and recording device you have in your possession before entering,” the alien ordered, purposefully aiming his look at the hatch. “You will be thoroughly searched after your identity has been proven.”

“Do as he says,” the Doctor immediately added, scared that his companions might hesitate too long and look suspicious. 

  
  


He watched as Rose shoved a hand in her pocket and took out her phone, unceremoniously dropping it in the hatch, but he had to give Kuss a hard stare and a mouthed threat before he reached for his gun in the layers of his toga with a sigh and threw it in the box, along with his own phone. The Doctor added a few devices of his own, making sure to bury his sonic screwdriver deep into his transdimensional pocket with a discreet flick of his fingers, effectively hiding it under a pile of knick-knacks that should be enough for it to evade the search.

  
  


“Done,” he announced to the hologram when Rose and Kuss offered nods to let him know they had nothing more to put away.

  
  


The large white door split open with a loud rush of air and a thick cloud of vapour, and Rose was reminded of the decompression chambers she’d seen countless times on television, in those cheap sci-fi movies with a touch of horror that were broadcasted late during the night. This was very real, however, and this time she knew that what was waiting for them behind that door would not be a laughable monster or a lame jumpscare. She went along with the Doctor and Kuss towards the long desk behind which the alien they’d only seen through a low resolution image was waiting for them. He looked humanoid enough, but Rose thought that there also was something of the raven about him. His skin was blacker than a starless night, his eyes two pits of dark ink that shone brightly under the light of the artificial light flooding the immense hall, his crooked nose pointy enough to be compared to a sharp beak. She refrained from making any comment on that - surely pointing out that ravens were often associated with death and a bunch of other dark beliefs in most human cultures wouldn’t help them get what they came for more easily.

 

The Doctor took out his wallet again, letting the alien see what he wanted to see on the piece of psychic paper, and he flipped it close when given the authorisation to do so through a curt nod.

  
  


“Place your hand here, palm down,” the alien ordered as he took out a small device on which a complex imbrication of squares were traced.

  
  


The Doctor did as he was told, splaying his slightly sweaty fingers on the cold surface. His double heartbeat increased exponentially when the machine started to beep loudly, a ray of blue light moving back and forth under his skin to map his fingerprints and TNA code. He tried hard not to let his teeth bite into his lower lip in anxious expectation, but the nervousness that yanked his stomach made it impossible to keep a perfectly neutral expression, and he knew it. He could just hope that it had worked. Rose didn’t know about that, nor did Kuss, but he had carefully planned that part the week before. He had hacked into the Shadow Proclamation security system to replace all the data linked to the Vice Architect with his own, from his physical details to his TNA, so that he could trick this particular device into believing he was who he claimed to be. It was a wild guess, but he highly doubted the security would go as far as to double check the results if the device didn’t come up with anything wrong. 

 

The Doctor offered a poor attempt at a smile when the alien frowned almost imperceptibly, his suspicions roused by the unusual time it was taking the machine to communicate its decision. He didn’t know if it was because his TNA was too complex, him being a Time Lord, or if it was because the device was struggling to make sense of what his body was currently going through - maybe his physical conditions had worsened too much within the past week, altering some aspects of his physiology to the point the changes were too extensive to match the date he’d saved into the system, in which case they would all fall in a precipice of troubles. The blue light suddenly focused all its attention on the tiny glowing mark in the crook of his palm and his stomach churned with fear. That mark was the hazardous parameter. He had no idea if the intricate pattern of geometric figures etched under his skin had morphed into a different one, as he had always refused to study it from up close and face the hard truth of its evolution that was steadily leading to his final death. He probably should have.

 

His respiratory bypass kicked in when he realized he’d been holding his breath for far too long, but soon he blew out a long exhale of relief through his nose when the light flashed green and a computerized female voice echoed in the monumental hall.

  
  


“Identity confirmed.”

  
  


The alien offered an appreciative nod and the Doctor was quick to shove his otherwise useless hand in his pocket.

  
  


“You will now be searched,” the receptionist announced just as he pressed a button on his desk. “Be warned that any item found that do not answer to our security criteria will be destroyed and you will be taken in for further investigation.”

“We have nothing to hide,” the Doctor shrugged while three other aliens of the same kind appeared through a door behind the desk.  “Make this quick, will you?”

 

Each alien went to one of the visitors, and Rose noticed that the one who started to palpate her body was a tad taller, but also much thinner, with thick, almost cartoonish eyebrows sticking up its forehead. She guessed that they’d been considerate enough to assign her a female, but given the odd appearance of that being and the stern look it was keeping on her, it didn’t make much of a difference. Rose just let herself be examined, opposing no resistance when the alien spread her arms and legs to press its long fingers in all the places where she could have tried to hide some dangerous items. A grin tugged at the corner of her lips when she saw the growing pile of rubbish that was coming out of the Doctor’s pockets, heaping on the floor in a shapeless mass from which a mini-gold club along with a plastic flower and and old antenna were sticking out - she had no idea how those things had ended up in his pocket, and even less clues as to what he had done or wanted to do with them. She was still worrying about the sonic screwdriver he’d probably managed to hide in a dark corner of the small world living in his pocket, but she waved it off when the alien searching him abandoned after a few minutes. Her own alien eventually stopped looking for things that weren’t there too and granted her with a slight nod of the head to let her know everything was okay.

 

Surprisingly, Kuss’ search went just as well as those of the Doctor and Rose, quite possibly because he really wanted to free his friend and didn’t want to take unnecessary risks that could imperil their rescue plan. The receptionist reached under his desk and took out a small kit that Rose could see contained some kind of big syringe - thus leading her to wonder what was the point of searching for weapons to be handed one a minute later - and a pair of gloves.

  
  


“I believe you know about the procedure,” the alien told the Doctor as he handed her the kit. “She’s in zone B. Don’t forget to sign out.”

  
  


The Doctor nodded with a grim smile and stuffed the kit in one of his pocket, motioning for Rose and Kuss to follow him towards a grey panel fixed into the wall next to a large grey door with a large B painted over it. 

  
  


“I’m warning you, you can't be ready for what’s behind that door,” the Doctor said with a purposefully hard look. “You both wanted to be here, even if I insisted you should not. If you can’t handle it, this is not my problem. Keep noise down to a minimum, don’t try to talk to them and everything will be fine. Got that?”

 

Rose and Kuss exchanged a look that spoke of worry and uncertainty, but they both nodded in unison before the Doctor pressed his hand on the panel and the door swished open in a fashion much like the previous one.

  
  


“Welcome to Hell,” the Doctor muttered, more to himself than to them, striding off inside the doomed place.

  
  


Rose followed him through the door but froze on spot, gulping down a gasp when she understood what he had meant. This was a prison like she had never seen or imagined before, and if she hadn’t known that this was an actual jail, she might have thought it was more of a mental hospital. Dozens of people were walking around, dressed in white gowns with large numbers printed in a green font on their backs, and they seemed to be erring without goal, emotionless faces staring at the tip of their shoes or at the ceiling with glassy eyes. Some were sprawled on the floor, some others hitting their heads repeatedly on the nearest wall, some other murmuring nonsense to themselves. From time to time, a shout would be heard, or a wail, but they would die down before Rose could see where they were coming from. None of them, humanoid or not, gave off the impression that they were dangerous people. Just lost souls, sad beings that were kept captive inside this dull open space with nothing else to do but tread paths without end on the dreary white tiles. A tiny green being was staring at her through thick glasses - no, not staring, not even  _ looking  _ \- and the tears that were quite probably rolling down his round cheeks without his consent made her heart clench in her chest. She couldn't help the pity that crashed over her, even though she still had no idea what was truly happening in here. She simply couldn’t accept that such harmless-looking, depressed and mournful beings were kept in here against their will. She simply couldn’t understand what was happening to them.

 

She jumped when the Doctor’s hand landed on her shoulder and searched for her eyes with a concerned and sorry frown.

 

“What…” she started before she realized that her throat was too tight to properly talk.

  
  


A long breath fled past her lips and she cleared her throat a few times, then attempted to speak again.

  
  


“What are they doing to these people?” she managed to ask, doing her best to ignore the little green alien that was coming her way.

“They're prisoners, Rose,” the Doctor said softly as he brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone to wipe a lone tear off. “The best kind of prison. Their own heads.”

  
  


He took her by the hand, taking a second to make sure that Kuss wasn’t about to wreak havoc in this gloomy hall, and led her to one of the prisoner who seemed to be sleeping in a standing position face to a wall. The Doctor pointed at an element Rose had missed at first, but now that she was seeing it she decided she’d rather not have seen it at all. There was some kind of blue blob attached to the base of the prisoner's skull, a blob that was throbbing slightly, quietly, swelling and deflating at a peaceful rhythm. Rose guessed that it was living from its moist shine and the large vein that was pulsating on its surface, but apart from these signs there was no way to tell that it wasn’t just a weird balloon sewn into the skin of the neck. No eyes, no nose, no limbs, just an inform blue mass like the ones she used to make with plasticine when she was a kid.

  
  


“It’s a Mefl,” the Doctor explained as he gauged the blob with a stern look. “From the planet Lupch. They’re comparable to Earth insects. Vermins, that almost went extinct six hundred years ago after a plague had the indigenous people burn most of their lands. They’re extremely dangerous. Notice where it’s bitten into the skin? They stick their pointy little teeth the closest to the nervous center and they release chemicals that allow them to feed on people’s cerebral wavelengths. They take control of your body and your mind and there’s nothing you can do about it. They basically turn you into a vegetable. All these people you see here have lost their free will. Everything they were is hidden so deep in their brains that it can’t get out.”

“That’s horrible,” Rose whispered, shuffling closer to his side to get a reassurance he didn’t seem willing to give in that moment.

“Don’t pity them,” he shrugged, turning away from the prisoner to go in search of the one he was looking for. “They all deserved it.”

“It’s not like you to say that kind of things,” Rose pointed out, throwing a few glances back to make sure the green alien had stopped following her. “Don’t you feel bad looking at them?”

“No,” he answered with a shake of his head. “Not them. See that Ghool over there?”

  
  


Rose aimed her eyes at a cyborg that was currently trying to eat his own toes, his teeth scraping against the metallic flesh and his tongue clicking on the roof of his mouth every few seconds. One of his eyes was missing, replaced by what looked to be some kind of plug, and Rose found the glass case around his brain both fascinating and disgusting. Much like all the others, he didn’t look particularly threatening, especially not when he lost his balance and rolled to the side with his foot still trapped in his mouth.

  
  


“He was a terrorist,” the Doctor then announced with a sniff of disgust which had Rose smother the chuckle that was rising in her throat. “Blew up half a galaxy. And that Judoon over there? Rogue General, coup d'état, he murdered the whole royal family of the Kelkatesh nebula. Oh, and Elv. Good old Elv. Used to rape enslaved children in seedy clubs, ruined hundred of lives and made a fortune selling the kids to the highest bidder.  Should I go on, or is that enough?”

“What about the one we’ve come for?” Rose asked softly, suddenly much more inclined to believe that those prisoners had just gotten what they deserved.

“I don’t know and I don't want to know,” the Doctor answered between clenched teeth. “We take her out, drop the two of them off back on Vandea and forget about them. That was the plan.”

“Okay,” Rose simply nodded, because he obviously didn’t want to elaborate on the subject and was already fidgeting enough not to add to his anxiety.

  
  


Just as they reached the center of the room, they spotted Kuss on a far end corner, crouching down on the floor next to a prisoner that Rose had no trouble recognizing as his own species. He seemed to be softly talking, his long fingers drawing gentle circles on the shoulder of the alien, taller, even slimmer than he was. The touch looked much too delicate to what the Doctor and Rose had been used to coming from him, and they both realized that he must have cared quite a lot about that individual indeed.  They approached him and when he looked up to them Rose noticed, for the first time, a sheen of moisture layering the smooth surface of his orange eyes.

  
  


“Free her, Doctor,” Kuss said, voice standing between a rough order and a desperate plea.

  
  


The Doctor took out the kit he'd been given from his pocket with a quick nod, gesturing for him to take a step back so he could set to work. He started by carefully putting on a thick leather glove, but that simple task reminded him of his useless right arm and the absolute lack of sensation he was experiencing from the tip of his fingers to the crook of his elbow - an area even larger than the day before, he failed  _ not  _ to notice - made it impossible to do it alone.

  
  


“I’m going to need your help, love,” he told Rose who had remained a bit further away not to stand in his way. “Don’t worry, everything will be alright if you follow my instructions. I just need one more hand, yeah?”

“Whatever you need,” Rose reassured him with a careful pat on his shoulder as she took the glove she was offered.

  
  


She quickly pulled it over her hand and observed in silence took out the syringe from the small plastic bag and pinched the cap protecting its tip off. He handed it to her, and Rose eyed the bright red liquid flowing in the large glass tube, a bit hesitant.

  
  


“This is Poledum,” the Doctor explained all while bringing his gloved hand to the blob at the base of Fizz’s neck. “Basically poison. You just need to inject it in the Mefl to kill it. Don’t touch it with your bare hand, though, humans don’t react well to its mucus.”

“Got you,” Rose breathed out, carefully approaching the needle to the expense of blue skin that was squeezing between his fingers.

“Kuss, be ready,” he warned when he saw the alien back away a little. “She’ll be disoriented, and she may experience a nervous breakdown. All her senses and memories are going to get back to her in the span of a second, can be quite overwhelming. Be there for her, yeah?”

  
  


Kuss bowed his head in agreement and took the tiniest of step closer, while Rose waited for the Doctor’s go sign and took a large intake of breath when he lifted his thumb. Slowly, carefully, she pricked the tip of the needle into the soft skin of the parasite, taking extra caution not to touch it with the hand that wasn’t protected by a glove, and pressed the plunger that opposed close to no resistance at all, the red substance gradually streaming into the pulsating vein. The glass barrel finally emptied of the last drop of crimson poison, Rose pulled it out and dropped it back in the plastic bag. They didn’t have to wait long to witness the effect of the venomous liquid, the leech shrinking ever so slightly before its teeth released their hold on Fizz’s skin, then fell to the ground with a quiet squish.  The shout of pain that was expelled from the once mute alien’s mouth, however, was loud enough to make Rose wince and unconsciously bring her hands to cover her ears.

 

Kuss rushed to his friend’s side and drew her into a tight hug, speaking soft words of comfort and seemingly insensible to the volume of her screams. The Doctor was in no way concerned by her pained cries either. Probably because the only thing he could hear thanks to his impressive Time Lord auditive capabilities made his double heartbeat reach new heights and his valid hand twitch with fear on his side. Time itself seemed to slow down for a moment, a single second that rolled out in slow motion, a single second that made him deeply regret ever stepping into that infernal place. His heels dug deeper into the cushioned soles of his chucks, one of his kneecap burst into flames, the muscles of his thighs contracted so tight and so quick that he believed the tissue might break, the tendons in his neck threatened to snap. And the Doctor threw himself at Rose, their bodies colliding with an unprecedented violence that sent them crashing down on the floor. Just as the sound of a bullet whizzed past his ear and made the thin hair at the nape of his neck rise.

Rose had far from enough time to understand what was happening, and when the Doctor forcefully tugged on her hand to bring her back on her feet with what must have been a shout given the way his teeth were suddenly bared and the arteria on the side of his neck swelled under his skin, she simply followed in his steps, running faster than she had ever had before through a thick blur of blotted colours.

 

The Doctor grunted heavily, temporarily releasing Rose’s hand to reach inside his pocket and rummage around until his fingers closed around the sonic screwdriver. The door was closing in, more bullets splitting the air around them, the sound of their combined steps hitting the floor at a wild pace and of the blood rushing through his veins deafening, and with the desperate hope that his sonic was set on the right setting, he aimed it at the panel and pressed the button. The whir and the soft blue light of the screwdriver had the door opened a fraction of a second before they reached it, and he addressed a quick thankful prayer to the sky. Until his eyes landed on the three guards standing right in front of them, barring their way with their muscular bodies and impressively big weapons.

  
  


“Duck!” he heard Kuss roar behind him - and he was barely quick enough to pull Rose down with him before he saw a gluey green slime flying a hair length above his head and hit the guards in the face.

  
  


The three colossuses dropped their weapons with a wail of pain as they brought their large hands to the flesh that appeared to be sizzling, blistering, a pungent smell of burnt skin and tissue infecting the air like an acid miasma. The Doctor didn’t make sure that they wouldn’t come after them and spurred his legs to run again, fleeing past the receptionist to the last door that would lead them to redeeming safety. He activated his sonic again, and the door opposed no more resistance than the previous one - the security had probably not expected them to go this far, let alone be able to survive long enough to even leave hall B. They reached the end of the corridor under a rain of bullets and a torrent of curses, but they made it. The Doctor bashed the door of the Tardis open with his shoulder, and closed with just as much force when he made sure everyone was there. 

 

Two more seconds, and he slammed his palm down on the oh so beautiful red button standing in the middle of the console, sending the ship swirling into the Time Vortex and away from the blasted asteroid.

 

* * *

 


	11. Chapter 11

* * *

 

 

“I knew this would happen!”

  
  


Rose had never seen the Doctor so enraged before, and she decided that never again she wanted to be the witness of such terrifying anger. She had heard of the Oncoming Storm and she thought with a frown of painful sorrow that storm did indeed qualify his current state. Wild electricity seemed to be buzzing around him, making his arm shake and fingers flex reflexively, and she wouldn’t have been surprised to see literal sparks flare from the two black holes that had swallowed his sweet chocolate eyes. He ran a feverish hand through his messy mane of brown locks, tugging on the strands with so much force that Rose noticed a few lone hairs floating in the air before they either fell to the grating or stuck to the lapels of his long coat because of all the static energy emanating from him. His nostrils flared as he took a deep intake of breath to calm his nerves, but that wasn’t enough to prevent him from throwing death glares at Kuss and disgusted huffs at the other alien who was now sprawled on one of the jump seats - she seemed to be alive, which was a good thing given what they had had to go through to bring her back.

 

Rose walked to the Doctor despite being rather intimidated in that moment, and she stopped him in his frantic pacing, splaying both her hands above his hearts.

  
  


“It’s alright, Doctor,” she soothed in a whisper, trailing fingers up his neck to cradle his jaw. “We’re all safe now, yeah? That’s what matters.”

“That bastard risked your life, Rose!” he almost shouted, pointing a trembling finger at Kuss - and Rose realized that this was the first time he’d used an offensive word in all the years she’d spent with him, which was proof enough of just how on edge he was. “You could have been hurt, worse, killed! I don’t…”

“I’m fine, Doctor,” Rose interrupted before he could keep ranting and let his anger build up even more. “Not a scratch.”

  
  


Those words seemed to soften his features a little, and his breath gradually evened out as he looked at her face. But when his eyes trailed down and stopped somewhere on her shoulder, Rose saw the anger and the tension flaring back to life.   
  


 

“You’re bleeding,” he pointed out, voice straining not to burst into a yell. “I’m going to kill him.”

  
  


Rose followed the direction of his eyes, and indeed a bright red spot was spreading through the meshes of her light cotton tee-shirt. It might have been the adrenaline, but she hadn’t even realized that she was injured. If she focused enough, she could feel an unusual heat in the area, as well as a light pressure, but no pain at all. Weird - she was quite sure her body had processed most of the hormone, given that she could feel the burn in the muscles of her legs from too much running, that her own breath was back to regular speed and her heart rate had drastically slowed down. She quickly grasped his hand when she saw him prance, ready to jump at Kuss and abide by his threat.

  
  


“Just one tiny scratch,” she rectified with a quivery smile of reassurance. “It doesn’t even hurt, yeah? It’s nothing.”

“Of course it doesn’t hurt, those bullets are pure anaesthetics!” the Doctor growled back, squeezing her fingers a tad harder than he had intended before letting them go.

  
  


Rose watched anxiously as the Doctor marched towards Kuss before she could do anything, and winced inwardly when he grabbed him by the collar and brought his mouth close to his ear.

  
  


“Take Fizz to the first room you’ll find,” he managed to say without screaming, the effort it required making his voice oddly low in pitch. “I don’t want to see you again. Next time you hear the Tardis stop, go away.”

  
  


The Doctor shoved him away with a hard push and turned on his heels, joining Rose in three large strides and taking her hand in a gentle hold that greatly contrasted with the tension dripping from his whole body. Rose deemed unnecessary to talk and simply followed him through the maze of corridors until they stopped at the door of the infirmary. He eyed the white leather exam couch with enough insistence to make her understand she should sit on it while he went to one of the many cupboards to fetch a kit full of medical instruments and equipment. 

  
  


“Take it off,” he ordered, pulling on the hem of her tee-shirt after dropping his supplies on the couch.

  
  


Rose did as she was told, unable to stop her stomach from churning at his gruff tone, and the shiver that coursed down her spine was definitely not a consequence of the cold breeze flowing in the room. She observed in silence as he reached inside his pocket to take out his glasses and managed to unfold the temples with a deft flick of the wrist. In any other circumstances, she would have made a cheeky comment about how he looked with those glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, or given him a grin and a wiggle of her eyebrows, but she knew this was one of the rare times he wouldn’t be receptive at all. Instead, she kept her mouth shut and let him scan her shoulder with his sonic screwdriver, his concentrated frown focused on the screen.

  
  


“No major artery’s been hit,” he informed her, his shoulders sagging a little with relief. “Doesn’t hurt?”

“No,” she answered softly as he probed the injury with what looked like a pair of big tweezers.

“Those bullets…” he started, his glasses dropping to the tip of his nose when he bowed his head to get a better look at the bullet hole. “They’re not meant to kill.”

  
  


Rose winced when he inserted the tweezers into the wound, not because it hurt but because it was uncomfortably odd to feel the cold metal probe her flesh and muscles. The Doctor was too focused on the task at hand to notice - too focused, period. She had never seen him squint so much than he was in that moment, the corner of his mouth quirked up and his teeth biting into his lower lip so forcefully she was scared the skin might break. A pearl of sweat rolled down his temple, a rare occurrence when it came to the Doctor and the superior biology he more often than not bragged about. She couldn’t even remember a time when he’d actually broken a sweat, not even after one of their long runs that left her breathless with burning lungs and muscles for long minutes. He was unusually tensed and unsure, and Rose knew that it didn’t bode well. 

  
  


“They didn’t want to kill us,” he continued through clenched teeth, wiping the bead of sweat with his shoulder. “Just capture us. They must have found out we weren’t really with the Shadow Proclamation. I should have known they’d double-check my identity. I shouldn’t even have brought you there in the first place. There’s a reason why I don’t take you to some places. There are things you don’t need to see, planets you don’t need to visit, people you don’t need to meet. I should have been more persuasive. But no, I let you come, and look at you now.”

“I wanted to come,” she tried to reassure him with a disheartened smile. “I’ll be fine, yeah? Look, it doesn’t hurt, and you’re about to fix it.”

“If I can,” he grumbled, eyes both morose and angry, the fingers holding the tweezers twitching slightly. “Just need to get that bullet out before I can close the wound.”

  
  


Her eyes fell to his arm, that remained desperately limp on his side, and she understood where all that tension and austerity were coming from. Rose knew her Doctor enough to see he was sulking because of his current infirmity, and pain pinched her heart when his skin moulded his jaw as he ground his teeth together. 

  
  


“Do you want me to… Do something?” she offered, giving his lethargic limb a tender caress she wasn’t even sure he could feel. 

“No,” the Doctor barked loudly - and that made her jump so much she felt the tweezers yanking at her skin. “I can… I can do it. Just… Let me do it. I can do it.”

  
  


Rose simply nodded, swallowing the tears that came along the irrepressible hurt of being shouted at when she just wanted to help. He felt diminished because he couldn’t use his right arm, she got that. He felt angry because he couldn’t do something he would have been able to do with his eyes closed before, that was something she could deal with. He felt offended that she had dared suggest giving him a hand, that was one rejection too many. She was so irked by his everlasting need to be at his best, to always be and do perfect, to always prove his so-called superiority when he was obviously in dire need of help. She just wished he would understand, once and for all, that she wasn’t trying to bring him down, but lift him up. She just wished he could realize that their shared promise of being there for each other, always, was cracking, breaking under the weight of his constant refusal to let her support him.

 

His brow was now shining with a sheen of sweat and his mouth was so tightly pinched his lips were steadily turning white, but his fingers didn’t stop probing despite his shaking fingers. Rose suddenly winced again, and this time it wasn’t only because it felt odd. It was becoming painful. She tried to overcome the unexpected pain with a sharp bite on her cheek, but the tweezers kept exploring the wound, scraping against her muscles, pulling on the skin, and she eventually reached her breaking-point.

  
  


“Stop,” she yelped, quite beyond caring that it would hurt his pride even more.

“I’ve almost got it,” he growled, his tweezers going even deeper, so deep his whole hand was now coated with fresh blood.

“I said stop!” she cried out as she shoved him away with a push on his chest. “It bloody hurts, just stop!”

  
  


For a second, time seemed to freeze, Rose pressing a palm against the wound that was now bleeding profusely, the Doctor standing still, the tweezers dripping with blood in his trembling fingers. Tension made the air crackle so much, seeping through the air like a gas leak, she believed the whole room would explode into flames should anyone strike a match. No words were exchanged, no looks, no touches. Just a dreadful silence filled with unspoken apologies and muted grievances. 

 

Rose flinched with a gasp when he suddenly took a deep breath and threw his tool across the room with a roar of rage, the window of one of the cupboard blowing into pieces under the force of the impact. 

  
  


“Fuck!” he yelled, giving his forehead repeated slaps, covering half his face with her blood on the process. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Doctor, no,” Rose sobbed, her heart breaking into even more pieces that the cupboard window at seeing so much mad, distressed anger in his eyes. 

“Fucking useless arm, fucking useless hand!” he kept shouting, grasping his lifeless arm to smash it against a metal tray, causing scalpels and  scissors to rain down on the floor with too loud clangs. “I’m fucking useless!”

“Doctor, come here,” she urged  him through her cries, defying the fear that was slowly seeping in her veins.

“No,” he shook his head with vehemence, even taking a step back as if he was scared he’d hurt her just by being too close. “No, no, I’m not…”

“Please. I’m begging you.  _ Please _ , come here.”

  
  


The Doctor wavered on his feet for a moment, his features torn into a grimace of resentment as he looked at her face steadily losing its lively colours. It was when Rose sighed softly in weariness with one last pleading look that he eventually accepted to sit next to her on the couch. He wouldn’t look at her, however,  reaching inside his pocket to take out his sonic and aim it at her wound without a glance instead. 

  
  


“To stop the bleeding,” he shrugged with a sniff, tugging on his sleeve to cradle his dead arm into his lap when he realized it was touching her side. “For what it’s worth.”

“Thanks,” she whispered in return - the rest of the words she was dying to say getting stuck half-way through her throat.

  
  


A sad chuckle fell from his lips and she saw from the corner of her eye that tears were now freely flowing from his own eyes, rolling down his nose and dripping from its tip to disappear into the cotton of his trousers. The Doctor’s tears were the one thing in this Godforsaken universe that could so violently wrench her heart, the one thing she couldn’t bear to see without doing anything about it. 

 

Without a warning, Rose grabbed him by the shoulders and forced his head down on her lap. She ignored his complaints and fought against each of his attempt at getting up, until he stilled with a weak moan. Her fingers ran through his messy hair, trailed a gentle path down the contours of his face so that her thumbs could massage his stiff jaw. It took long, torturous minutes, but he ended up gathering his legs on the couch and relaxing under her touch - which was no small victory, given how reluctant he’d been at first. 

  
  


“I’m so tired,” the Doctor breathed out, shuffling a bit so get more comfortable on her lap. “So very tired.”

“I know,” Rose answered in kind, glad that he couldn’t see her throat bobbing with the efforts to keep her sobs at bay. “I’m tired too.”

“Why is it that I always fuck everything up?”

“Stop using that word, Doctor,” she chastised, brushing the pad of her thumb across his lips. “Doesn’t suit you.”

“It’s true, though,” he lamented - and Rose felt his half-shrug as his shoulder dug deeper in her thigh. “First, the contract, then the lies, now this? I’m supposed to love you, to protect you, to trust you. Haven’t done any of that so far. I’m such a fraud. Always making promises I can never deliver on.”

“What does that even mean,  _ you’re supposed to love me _ ?” she asked, alarming fear and doubt and, quite oddly, anger slithering their way in her veins. “Because you don’t anymore?”

“I ought not to anyway,” he whispered, his fingers going slack around her trousers. “Maybe loving you is the reason for all our troubles. Maybe all of this mess is the universe’s way of telling us we don’t belong. Maybe we had to part ways to avoid  _ this _ . Maybe… Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you back after all. Never a good idea to trick fate.”

  
  


Rose’s lungs contracted so much at hearing so words that she was almost certain they would implode in her chest, and her heartbeat faltered so much her vision turned white for a terrifying second. She couldn't believe her ears. He hadn't said any of that. He couldn't have. Tired or not, desperate or not, delusional or not, he would have never questioned the love he held for her. She looked down at his now peaceful face resting across her thighs and she struggled against the urgent desire to slap it, to punch it, to shove it down on the floor and stomp on it. Instead, she let the pained wails of the Tardis brush against the tendrils of her mind and found comfort in the warmth she managed to wrap her into - warmth that unluckily wasn’t enough to heat up the icy blizzard storming in her ribcage. 

 

She cleared her throat several times, and when she was quite certain she’d be able to speak up without breaking into tears or fury, she gave his shoulder a light push and shifted her legs from under his head.

  
  


“Go,” she said, voice hard and loud, dripping with a determination that she was most certainly not feeling. “Just…. Go to sleep.”

“I should, yes,” he confirmed, dragging himself into a sitting position with his left arm. “Such an annoying human thing. Sleep. Sleeping is boring. You can’t get anything done while sleeping. Rubbish. Humans are rubbish. And I’m rubbish. Everything’s rubbish in this rubbish universe.”

  
  


He kept talking just as he was slowly getting back to his feet, trying to wipe off the now dry blood covering his hand on his trousers without much success, while Rose stared at him with a frown of deep sorrow and a grimace of contempt she felt guilty for giving into. Something was definitely not right with him, but she wasn’t in the mood to probe any further and to seek answers. 

 

He finally gave up, a weak sigh escaping his mouth, and he walked to the door, only to be faced with Kuss. Rose cringed, quite scared that his presence would stir the Doctor’s anger, but the Time Lord only looked at him with glassy eyes, smiled tiredly and left without a word - a relief or another reason to worry, she didn’t know, and she didn’t want to know anyway.

  
  


“I heard screaming,” Kuss shrugged from the doorstep, his fingers wrapped around the frame. “Everything alright?”

“Oh, just brilliant,” Rose scowled, her joint screaming in protest when she threw her arms up. “I have a hole in my shoulder with a bullet inside, I’m knackered, I’m in pain, I might be dying for all I know, and the Doctor’s been an absolute piece of arse! I’m perfect, thank you very much!”

  
  


Rose’s shoulders sagged as she allowed a sob to break free from her throat, unaware that Kuss had taken a few steps into the infirmary and was picking up the tweezers from among the debris of broken glass.

  
  


“I can’t do anything about your Doctor,” he said as he approached her with a measured prudence. “But I can take care of that bullet for you, if you want.”

“Whatever,” Rose mumbled, too exhausted to protest, to care, or to do anything more than cry in silence.

  
  


Kuss ran his long fingers over his face and went to an open cupboard, rummaging through the neatly ordered vials of pills and flasks of liquids on display.

  
  


“You humans need anaesthetics for the pain, that right?” he asked, picking up one of the flasks along with a syringe. “Can’t have you fainting on me because you can’t stand it.”

  
  


Rose simply closed her eyes and her head bent under its own weight, unable to remain upright. Her whole body felt like it had turned to lead, her limbs heavy, insensitive apart from the heat radiating from the wound, and her thoughts mingled in a welter of feelings she wasn’t sure she’d be able to distinguish. She only felt the needle prick into her skin, the slow burn of the liquid seeping in her tissue and her bloodstream, until the pain eventually faded away. Then she felt his long, thin fingers dig into the soft muscle at the juncture of her neck, just before the tweezers invaded the wound all over again - and she had to admit, she would have thanked him for his consideration if she’d had enough courage to open her mouth. Soon enough, the loud clank of the bullet falling into the metal tray made her ears ring, followed by more rustling of clothes and quiet steps on the linoleum.

  
  


“Do you know where he keeps his dermal regenerator?” Kuss asked as he opened a few drawers and more cupboards.

“Over there,” Rose answered in a whisper, managing to point her thumb somewhere behind her back.

“Oh yeah, got it,” he nodded, fetching the small device from the table. “You might feel a tingle  or a pull, but it won’t last.”

  
  


Rose grimaced when he activated the regenerator near the injury, and indeed the odd feeling that thousands of ants were swarming around her shoulder to the tip of her fingers made her arm twitch in her lap. He was very careful, his long claws not pressing too hard into her skin, making sure not to touch the wound by inadvertence, his movements precise and efficient. Her heart stuttered in her chest when she realized that this vile alien was being so much more gentle and sympathetic that the Doctor had been. It felt as if her whole conception of the universe had been turned upside down. Nothing made sense anymore, especially not through the fog of her exhaustion. 

 

She just wanted to sleep. Not to rest her body, but to rest her mind. Forget, for a few hours, about where she was, what was happening, why her life had suddenly taken that sharp turn that would lead her far, far away from the one man she desperately wanted and needed. The one man she would gladly die for was the same man that would kill her - because if he’d meant any of what he’d told her, she would die.  Until then, she had loved him as much as he had loved her. There had been an equilibrium between their shared passion and devotion, two identical forces that complemented each other and created the most beautiful of fusions. That equilibrium would cease the moment he’d stop loving her, and her own love would end up consuming her from the inside. And she would die.

  
  


“All done,” Kuss announced after a few minutes, dropping the generator on the couch. “You’ll have a scar for a week, and it’ll hurt for a while, but it’s healed.”

“Thanks,” Rose breathed out as she reached for the too large hoodie at the foot of the couch.

“Do you want… Tea?” he asked with a gesture that oddly reminded Rose of the Doctor’s sideburn-scratching reflex when he was uneasy. “We could talk over… Tea.”

“Talk ‘bout what?” she enquired with a raised eyebrow, the only thing she really wanted in that moment being crashing down on her bed and never waking up. 

“I thought you’d be one to want to know more about the Eternal Prophets,” he shrugged - and, contrary to what she had expected, his voice bore no malice whatsoever. “Or about what’s happening to your Time Lord. Huxley was much more dangerous than what the Doctor had bargained for. Call it compensation, if you like.”

“No need for tea. Just tell me what’s happening to him. Please.”

“As you wish.”

  
  


Rose observed him as he plopped down into a chair against a wall and stretched his legs before him, crossing his ankles, as well as his arms across his narrow chest. She held his orange, dry gaze, unwavering despite her eyelids ready to close on their own, and she waited for him to speak. 

  
  


“The Eternal Prophets are an ancient race whose name has long been forgotten,” he started - and somehow Roses exhaustion turned into trepidation at the thought that he might actually give her precious information she could use to save the Doctor. “No one knows where they were born or for how long they’ve been around. To most, they’re a legend. Unfortunately, they do exist. They’re the most powerful species this universe had ever known. Even Time Lords pale in comparison. Insects to Gods. So long as people like the Doctor sign contracts with the Prophets, they’ll keep living. They might even have gathered enough life to live until the end of the universe, for all I know.”

“What do you mean,  _ gathered life _ ?” Rose asked, thinking the choice of words peculiar.

“The Prophets can give you everything you can wish for, anything you can imagine. Of course, there is a price to pay. That price is your life. You want to be rich? That’s worth forty years of your life. You want to save a loved one from an illness? Make that a hundred years. The Doctor wanted to cross the fabric between the universes to get you back, and that, dear Rose, is worth several thousands of years. He’s still alive because he’s a Time Lord with a virtually unlimited life-span. Except the Prophets are omniscient. They know everything about anyone, from the moment they’re born to the day they die. They knew when the Doctor was supposed to die and they used that to their advantage.”

“What do you mean?” she said in a whisper, shuffling closer to the edge of the couch.

“I mean they probably tricked him,” he continued with a shrug. “Say, crossing the fabric between the universe was worth three thousand years, but they knew the Doctor would live for five thousand. Well, they made him pay the five thousand he’d left instead of the three thousand.”

“How could the Doctor not see that?” she breathed out, her fingers digging into the white leather.

“Because he’s too blind to the evil of this world,” he answered as he got up from his chair. “He trusts people too much. Too soft a touch in a too tough a universe.”

“How come… How come he’s not dead yet, then?” the question left her quivering lips, the prospect of the Doctor’s death sending cold shivers down her spine.

“Because the Prophets can’t swallow so much life energy at once, or they’d burn. Especially thousands of years. That’s why the Doctor suffers so much. His life is being drained, little by little. He’s slowly dying. His arm is dead, the rest will follow very soon. Even his brains are frying, and I find it very impressive that he’s still coherent. I’ve seen one or two who’d lost their minds after a single day.”

“Can’t we do anything to stop this?” she struggled to say, her voice coming out low and thick. 

“ _ We _ are not doing anything,” he said with a push of his long finger on her sternum. “ _ You _ can always try to kill all the Eternal Prophets to break the contract. You wouldn’t be the first, but let’s say you wouldn’t be the last either, if you know what I mean.”

“How do you kill them?” Rose instantly pressed - because she knew that it was better to die trying to save the Doctor that die in the agony of losing him.

“No one knows,” Kuss shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets  before he headed towards the door with the obvious intention of ending that conversation. “I told you, they’re omniscient. They know everything. You’d be dead before you could set the coordinates to their bloody rock. But if you’re really desperate and have nothing to lose… You could always try to sign a contract with them. Ask for their death.”

“But…”

“Take this,” he said, taking out a small leather book from the folds of his toga and throwing it next to her. “Thank you for your help in getting Fizz out. We’ll be gone as soon as we land, as the Doctor asked. Good luck.”

  
  


Rose tried to stop him, but before she could open her mouth he was already gone. With a weary sigh, she trailed her fingers on the book lying on her side, its bright red leather cold under her touch, the motifs carved on its surface unlike anything she’d ever seen before. She flipped through some of the pages - heavy paper that must have turned yellow over centuries - but there was nothing she could understand. Lines and lines of intricate symbols that seemed to have no patterns whatsoever, drawings and figures she couldn’t for the life of her decipher, hundreds of useless pages she could only guess were about the Eternal Prophets. She closed it and shoved it inside the kangaroo pocket of her hoodie, following the path Kuss had taken minutes before and heading for her bedroom - her own, not the one she now shared with the Doctor. She knew she wouldn’t be able to face him so soon after what had happened, and the last thing she wanted was to wake him up and engage into a confrontation that would siphon what little energy she had. 

 

The Tardis seemed to have sensed her desperation and had kindly put the bright pink door a few feet away from the infirmary, and Rose thanked her with a gentle caress on a coral strut.

  
  


“At least, I’ve still got you, sweet girl,” Rose whispered.

  
  


She plopped down on her bed in silence, too fatigued to change into her pajamas, too abated to slip under the covers. She just rolled herself into a tight ball, wrapping her arms around a heart-shaped fluffy pillow, and let herself be lulled by the soft, reassuring hum of the Tardis that made her bed buzz slightly, let her mind be soothed to sleep by her comforting presence at the back of her mind. 

 

* * *

 


	12. Chapter 12

* * *

 

 

The Doctor blinked his eyes open and took a sharp intake of breath when a searing pain ricocheted against his skull, a scalding headache doting his field of vision with dozens of tiny white flickers of light. He squinted his eyes shut back again and he brought his cold hand to his forehead in a futile attempt to tame the heavy thuds, whose rhythm matched the one of the veins pulsating in his brain. He pushed himself in a sitting position, his back against the headboard, careful not to touch the wall with the back of his head, lest the pain would get worse. Amidst his haze, he picked up on the only rational thought his mind could muster, whispering with insistence,  _ pills _ ,  _ pills _ ,  _ pills _ . He reached into the pocket of his trousers and took out the small vial, barely registering the fact that the quantity of capsules had drastically diminished over the past two days. He popped three of them  into his mouth and swallowed at once, his dry throat bobbing up and down with difficulty as he felt the medication fight its way through it. And then, he waited. A minute turned into two, two into ten, ten into thirty, and it was only then that he started to feel the jolts of pain fade out to a dull throb, until it died altogether. 

 

A weak sigh of relief escaped his lips as he let his head fall backwards. The relief was short-lived. All the events that had led him to sleep alone in this bed with his clothes still on and traces of dried blood on his hand flooded back to the front of his eyes in an awful movie he wished he hadn’t directed. His heart contracted painfully in his heaving chest as he thought about Rose, about all the things he’d done to her, all the things he’d told her. All the things that were so unlike him he was tempted to believe someone had puppeteered him into doing and saying them. Guilt couldn’t quite cover the gut-wrenching feeling tugging at his stomach and making him so sick he had to gulp down the bile rising in his throat. He had to apologize, even if he knew a million words wouldn’t be enough to deserve her forgiveness. He had to make it right, or at the very least,  _ less wrong _ .

 

He dragged himself to the edge of the bed and pushed his body up with his left arm, the right one still desperately limp and insensitive swinging on his side. The rhythm of his heartbeat stuttered  when his right foot landed on the soft carpeted floor, and his right knee buckled under him. He tried hard to convince himself that this had only happened because he’d slept in a weird position and his limb just needed to wake up. He shook his ankle forcefully, waiting for the usual tingle in his toes that would allow to make the terror flooding in his veins dissolve, but it didn’t come. So he bit his cheek, probably too hard given the disgusting, coppery taste that poured over his tongue, and he took another step. And before he could reach out to prevent his fall, his chest crashed on the floor, knocking all air out of his lungs, and his head bounced against the carpet like a vulgar rubber ball, his headache flaring back to life again.

 

Rose woke up with a start when she heard the loud racket coming from behind the wall. Her brain still stuck in the thick fog of slumber, she pricked her ear and sat on the edge of the mattress, waiting for any other sign that there might be an urgent reason to get out of bed. A string of curses seeped through the thin wall, and she had no trouble recognizing whose voice was proffering such obscenities - she definitely hated to hear that voice say such things, but then again, that wasn’t the only, nor the worse, change the Doctor seemed to have gone through. She felt the light tug of the Tardis’ consciousness at the back of her mind, a deep worry that leaked through her hum and her telepathic wavelengths, and that was enough to spur her on her feet.

 

Rose quickly went to the dark wooden door she had learnt to consider as theirs and pushed it open, unknowing of what she’d find behind it. It took her eyes a second to roam around the room, before they fell on the hand gripping the duvet of the bed - hand that belonged to the Time Lord struggling to get up, it seemed. She ignored the insidious voice in her head that was whispering she ought to leave him alone, teach him the hard truth that he now needed her, and rushed to his side as quickly as her feet would allow her to.

  
  


“What happened to you?” she asked softly, wrapping an arm under his armpits to help him up.

“Of course not,” he shook his head, plopping down on the bed with a dull swoosh.

“What does that mean,  _ of course not _ ?” she raised an eyebrow as she probed his head in search of any injury.

“Well, of course not,” he repeated. “Hello. I’m the Doctor. I like you. I think I do. Do I like you?”

  
  


Rose stopped dead in her search, her fingers freezing still over his temples. She turned his face to look into his eyes, only to see that the bright flame of life and passion had been replaced by a shy gleam of… Something she had trouble qualifying as anything else than stupidity. He mumbled a few words she couldn’t decipher, probably Gallifreyan - and she would have found the melody of it beautiful if it weren’t for the worry it awakened.

  
  


“Doctor?” she said, nibbling on her lower lip, her fingers fiddling with the collar of his jacket.

 

He suddenly blinked forcefully, and Rose watched intently for any sign that he was back to his normal self.

 

“What?” he grunted when he finally seemed to notice she was staring. “I told you I can’t feel my leg now, that’s why I fell. Not so hard to understand, is it?”

  
  


Rose ignored just how rude his words had sounded, too torn between the relief flooding through her that he was starting to make sense again, and the anxiety that seized her stomach when she realized his condition had gotten much worse over a single night. His fingers joined hers on his shoulder, and Rose felt something akin to compassion powdered with guilt flow from him. He nuzzled her cheek with the tip of his nose, the pad of his thumb drawing circles on the back of her hand, and the breath that went with his broken sob caressed her jaw.

  
  


“I’m sorry, my love,” he whispered softly, letting his lips brush a kiss on her chin. “I know none of this is your fault. I know you can’t do anything about it. It’s just… So hard to be like this. I don’t even feel like a Time Lord anymore.”

“Of course you’re still a Time Lord,” Rose smiled through her sadness.

“Am I really?”

  
  


He took her hand in a gentle hold and brought her fingers to the side of his neck. Rose wondered for a second why he would do this, just one second before she felt it. The heartbeat, pulsing against her fingertips, a soft, regular throb, rising and falling against her fingertips. The single heartbeat.

  
  


“When?” she breathed out, unable to stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks.

“Three days ago,” he answered with a disheartened shrug. “That’s why I’m even more tired. I think that might be why my leg has died during the night. Not enough blood flow to certain parts of my body. Especially my brain. I can feel it. I have… Moments. Moments when I’m not even myself, when I can’t think, can’t remember anything.  For now, they don’t last, but I’m afraid things will go downwards much more rapidly from now on. The things I said to you yesterday… I never meant any of that. I don’t regret bringing you back. I don’t regret doing any of this. You’re the most amazing woman,  _ being  _ in this whole universe, Rose Tyler. I can ever thank you enough for putting up with me. And.. I want you to know that whatever I might say or do to you, I love you.”

“Oh, my Doctor…” Rose whispered, drawing him into a tight hug, unable to voice the wave of love that crashed over her.

  
  


Somehow, that single heart beating in his chest made the whole situation more real. A dead arm, a dead leg, she knew that should have been enough to understand that he was dying. But it hadn’t. It was easier to believe that they could be fixed, that they would eventually get better, that this was just temporary. After all, they’d had to fix things much worse than these. But a heart stopping… The one organ that allowed for the body and the mind to carry on, the one thing that perpetually rhythmed everyone's life until the day they died. It made the weight of the whole situation crash down her shoulders and her own heart stop momentarily, as if it had somehow felt that one of the hearts it was roaring for wasn’t anymore.

 

One heart left. But for how long? It terrified her to be faced with the vile reality that the Doctor might be gone from her life before she could do anything to save him. Time had never been more important than in that exact moment, the moment that truly marked the beginning of what could very well be the last adventure of her lifetime.

  
  


“I’ll find a way,” she promised, a soft murmur against the shell of his ear. “I swear to God I won’t stop fighting for you. I’ll save the both of us or I’ll die with you, but I won’t stop.”

“Rose,” he whispered, both wanting to free himself from her hold and needing to melt deeper into her arms. “You know...You know there’s no way.”

“There is one. I’ll kill the Eternal Prophets. I’ll go to them and sign for their death, or I’ll die trying. Don’t even bother.”

  
  


Those last words were spoken with her index pressed across his lips to keep the protest he was obviously intent on delivering. He gulped down his breath with difficulty and settled for a shy nod which earned him a smile. Rose offered a gentle rub over his thigh and with one last peck to his lips, she stood from the bed.

  
  


“Do you have anything that can help with your leg or do I need to piggyback you until we find a proper solution?” she asked with a giggle that rang weird, even in her own ears, but that still managed to make the tension drop by a few notches.

“I have something, but… I’m not sure which option is less humiliating,” he said softly, struggling to rotate his waist to keep his eyes on her when she began to walk away. “In that cupboard over there,” he pointed at the far end of the room, “at the bottom, behind the… Big rubber ball and the… Duster thingy. Something that looks like two rings with cables and rods.”

  
  


He listened to her rummage through the cupboard for a minute and a hot blush rose to his cheeks when she made an impudent comment about the riding crop she had probably found among the pile of knick-knacks - crop he had most definitely used to ride the Fiery Steeds on Jhoff, not to any other purpose as the one she was currently describing with way too many details. The red of his bluh was drowned by a pale white when she plopped back down on the bed with the device into her hand, and he seriously considered taking up on her offer to piggyback him. He wished he could at least tell her to go and take care of it by himself, but he knew that with only one hand available, he couldn’t do it alone. He took a deep breath to try and tame the nervousness that made shivers roll down his spine like ice water as he watched her turn the device in her hands.

  
  


“So, what is this thing?” Rose asked, examining the weird contraption under every possible angle.

“Bionic splint,” he answered with a grimace and an unconscious shift on the side. “A very old version of a bionic splint. Obsolete, even. They stopped using these around the thirty-seventh century of your era. But I’m afraid that’s the only one I’ve got, so it’ll have to do.”

  
  


The  _ for now _ he itched to say hung unspoken on his lips - because he knew the hope that they entailed was built on nothing but a wishful and hazardous future. Rose didn’t seem to noticed his teeth biting into cheek, too focused on disentangling the various bright-coloured cables and electric wires.

  
  


“How does it work, then?” she said when she deemed her handiwork satisfying enough.

“Pull the two rings apart until it measures approximately the length of my leg,” he started to explain - and made sure to observe the smallest details of what she was doing, quite unwilling to suffer even more than he was going to because of a simple miscalculation. “Okay, now just slip my leg into the rings.”

  
  


Rose followed the instructions with diligence, kneeling before him and lifting his leg a little so that she could slide the device up. He refused to think about the fact that he couldn’t even feel her gentle fingers running up his calf and thigh in the process, and shoved the thought that he couldn’t remember clearly the last time she had touched him there aside - he had probably been too far away from believing there’d be a time when Rose’s hand on him would only be a sweet and merciless memory. 

 

She made sure to position each ring properly, as high up his thigh as she could, as low down his ankle as possible, marvelling at the fact that despite their plane surface, the rods seemed to stretch all the way to accommodate the appropriate length without losing any thickness. She readjusted the black kneepad to which all the cables and wires were attached so that it wrapped around his joint, and pressed the several patches of velcro to secure the splint around his limb.

  
  


“Is that it, then?” Rose asked, trying to bend his knee a little.

“Unfortunately for me, no,” he cringed, his nose scrunching up in disgust. “See that button in the center of the pad? You need to press it. Wait!”

  
  


Rose didn’t miss the way he tried to get away from her hand with an undignified wiggle and a squeak that would have put a mouse to shame, and she lifted her hands up to show him she wouldn’t do anything before he told her to.

  
  


“It’s going to be… Painful,” he announced, voice morose and eyes overshadowed by fear. “When you press that button, it will link the splint to my leg.”

“Okay, how?’

“That’s the point. Needles will pop, pierce my skin and muscles to prick into my nerves. Basically, all the signals will come through those needles, and they’re going to handle my movements. Low electrical impulses. A simulation of nervous messages, if you will. Just… Make sure to get away from me? I’m not sure how I’ll react to this, but just in case… Don’t let me hurt you.”

“Okay, yeah,” she nodded, wrapping a hand in the crook of his knee and bringing her thumb to lay over the black button. “Still no to piggyback?”

“No,” he chuckled through a heavy breath. “Just… Do it.”

  
  


Rose bowed her head in agreement, although she regretted having to be the one to do it. She took a deep breath, pressed the button, and instantly had to cover her ears when a shout like she’d never heard coming out of his mouth made her eyes squint and her stomach play jumping jacks. His leg twitched and thrashed in in the air as he fell down on the bed, and Rose had to take a step back so she wouldn’t be kicked by the sovereign limb. The Doctor buried his face in a pillow to muffle his scream, his hand fisted the duvet so hard his knuckles turned milky white. Something broke inside Rose when she saw his shoulders shaking with uncontrollable sobs, and she was quick to climb onto the bed, slip behind him and draw him into a tight hug, murmuring soft words of comfort in the crook of his ear. After a time much too long to her liking, his cries turned into weak, pained moans, and the leg finally relaxed, only shaken by sporadic spasms. His head lolled to the side, and Rose had to reign in a grimace at the sight of his red cheeks and puffy, moist eyes still shining with tears.

  
  


“Too late for piggyback?” he tried to joke between choked sobs - and Rose had to help him when he tried to sit up but his still trembling arm made it impossible to hold under his weight.

“You should rest for a bit, Doctor,” Rose advised, rubbing tender circles over his back.

“No,” he shook his head forcefully as he struggled to push himself up on his feet. “I need to walk. The sooner I get to grips with that bloody splint, the faster the degenerate couple that we are can work on a way to save my Time Lord arse before I kick the bucket.”

“I…” she started, then sighed in defeat when he wobbled on his feet and had to plop back down on the bed. “Alright, but at least let me help you.”

“I can manage by myself, thank you very much.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Of course I can!”

“For God’s sake, Doctor, don’t you think it’s time to drop that Time Lord superiority horseshit?” Rose huffed, both annoyed at his childish behavior and hurt that he was refusing her help once again. “If you don’t trust me, if you don’t rely on me when you need it, then what the Hell am I even doing here? This is not a one-way relationship, Doctor. We might be a degenerate couple, but we’re still a couple, and all I want is for you to trust me. Right now, I’m tired of all that crap and I don’t have the time, nor the patience to put up with your stupid ego issues, so either you let me help you so  _ we  _ can find a way to save you, or you don’t and I’ll just leave you to crawl on the carpet while _ I _ bust my ass to keep your bloody pride alive. I love you Doctor, but you don’t make it easy. You really don’t. Now, should I help your sorry bum up or should I just go?”

  
  


The Doctor gaped at her for a second, and Rose saw in his eyes he was struggling put the meaning of her words together. Then, she saw the conflicting emotions that shone in the depth of his chocolate irises. Judging by the way his fingers were clenching and unclenching from the duvet, how he kept rising ever so slightly from the mattress a breadth of a second later and his gaze travelled from the tip of his shoes to the hand she was offering, he was still considering her dilemma. And then, she saw the abdication and the resolve. He grabbed her hand in a firm but gentle hold and bent to press a kiss on her jaw that she believed he meant as an apology. 

  
  


“Can you please help me for the first steps?” he whispered with a bowed head, like a child who’s done something wrong and feels sheepish to confess.

“I’m here for you whenever you need it, my Doctor,” she reassured him, gingerly squeezing his hand. “Don’t ever forget that again. Don’t ever doubt that again. Come on, let’s get you walking.”

  
  


Rose got to her feet, pulled on his hand so he could do the same, but she still had to wrap an arm around his waist when he started to bend dangerously low on the right. She ignored his huff and caught his limp hand to bring all of his fingers on her hips.

  
  


“One step at a time, Doctor,” she warned - and she was rewarded with another huff and a pair of eyes lifting to the ceiling. “Don’t try to rush it, you’ll only make it slower.”

“I’m not a baby,” he complained in a whine, although Rose clearly felt his hold tighten on her waist so he could balance his body.

“You are until you’ve learnt how to walk with that thing. Come on, one at a time.”

  
  


Rose took the tiniest of steps back and kept his hands securely glued to her hips. She observed intently, ready to react should he be too weak or too uncoordinated to succeed, as he quickly lifted his left foot to take a step forward. That first try wasn’t much convincing. She had noticed how far he’s wavered to the right, how he had hinged on her to keep his weight off his right leg, how he had winced and how his right knee had avoided giving up under him by a short second. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain he was going through, but she could totally imagine how insufferable he would get if he had to pitch a camp in that bedroom without being able to go anywhere, and that was reason enough to push him to his limits.

  
  


“Good, the other one, now,” she encouraged with a bright smile. “Try not to lean on me too much, yeah?”

“ _ Allons-y _ , yeah,” he managed to grin despite the trickle of sweat running down his temple and his hands getting clammier by the minute.

  
  


Rose released one of his hands to see what he was capable of and let him shuffle his right leg rather awkwardly, the tip of his chuck dragging on the carpet. 

  
  


“Can you lift that knee higher up?” Rose asked, the firm intention of pushing him forward etched into her words. “Bend your leg a bit more so you don’t scrape off the floor?”

“Easier said than done,” he mumbled between clenched teeth, although the sole of his shoe detached from the carpet.

  
  


A squeaky sound accompanied this step, a sound that reminded Rose of the time a wheel of her little bike had bent after a bad encounter with a wall, and had kept creaking at every turn for years until Mickey had replaced it. The Doctor gave the screws of the knee joints a purposeful glance, and Rose noticed the bits of rust that covered the bolts.

  
  


“I told you it was old,” the Doctor shrugged helplessly, fighting off a groan when he put his foot back down. “I think it’s even illegal in some parts and times of the universe. Considered too dangerous and… Experimental.”

“Well, at least it seems to be working,” Rose tried to comfort him. “Can you try two steps at once?”

  
  


He nodded with a forceful bite on his lower lip and was almost tempted to beg Rose not to go too far - he was abated to realize crossing a few feet to her seemed now like a walk to the end of the universe, whereas he was used to running for miles without ever needing to stop. He took a deep breath and spurred his foot forward. Apart from the excruciating pain that came with the short movement, the feeling that he was walking barefoot on glass shards whilst having a leg on fire, it went rather well. If his useless right arm wasn’t just a flabby limb he couldn’t use to keep a semblance of balance, he might have just hopped on his left foot for the rest of his days, he through bitterly. He didn’t wait to take the next step, embolden by the appreciative smile Rose offered, and he realized with a soft sigh of relief that moving his right leg forward was much less painful. If he could get Rose to help him…

  
  


“Do you think you could, um,” he started, reaching out to anchor himself on the chest of drawers. “Hold my hand? I don’t think I can walk without… You. I just need to… I can’t lean on my right leg. I need you to keep my weight off of it. Would that be alright?”

  
  


Rose could see how much that cost him and she knew that must have taken a titanesque effort to come to terms with his need for help. Part of her wanted to tease him about it, but as she had told him before, there was no time to play around. So she simply took the fingers that were still clinging to her hip and squeezed them hard. She shifted to his side and took a first tentative step that he was quick to follow. Indeed, she felt the forceful tug on her hand when his left leg chased after hers and his shoulder bumped heavily against hers. Still, he managed to follow her, one step after the other, a grimace of intense concentration pulling at his features.

  
  


“You’re doing awesome, Doctor,” she soothed despite the few missteps and his award teetering.

“Don’t mock me, Rose Tyler,” he grunted, and Rose was glad to hear that tinge of jokeful tone in his voice. “Rejoice. Now you can safely say you can run faster than me, which is no small feat, believe me.”

“I can, but I won't,” she smiled, relieved to see they had managed to reach the door without too much trouble. “Remember how Mum kept telling me I was stuck with you? She’d never have been more right in that moment.”

“Can we not talk about Jackie, I think I’m enough in pain already, thanks,”  he said with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, come on, you like her,” Rose chided, pushing the door open. “You  _ miss  _ her.”

“This may surprise you, but I do,” he shrugged, doing his best to avoid her inquisitive eyes. “I think… She was right in some ways. I miss her reminding me that I’m no good for you. She always warned you,  _ don’t go with him, he’s nothing but trouble, that alien git _ .”

“She never thought a word of it,” she reassured him with a measured bump of her shoulder. “You should have heard her when you weren’t there. She’s always known I’d be better off with you than with anyone else. I’m her daughter. I guess… She just knew you’d take me away from her, and that’s what she was scared of. It scared her, but she accepted. She even told me you’d be a good husband and a good step-son.”

“Me? A good husband?”

“Well, her exact words were,  _ you two nutters were probably meant for each other, because no one can ever be as stupid and reckless _ , and, _ I suppose you’d make a nice bonkers couple _ . Then she told me she probably could do with the idea of us being married, because, quote again, _ he’d be the best kind of husband for you _ .  _ A mad, stupid alien husband, but a good husband nonetheless. _ ”

“Did she now?”

“Yeah,” Rose smiled fondly at the memory. “And she missed you, too. Probably because she could see just how you had changed me and that I couldn’t live without you. She was the one to kick my butt and tell me to work on something to get back to you, you know.”

“And… Did you?”

“I did. Every single day, most of the nights, I did. Came up with a dimension canon. It never quite worked. But we should keep that story for later, yeah?”

  
  


Whilst they were talking, they had reached the door to the library, which was probably where the Tardis thought they ought to start. Rose helped the Doctor to sit in one of the large leather seats and reached inside her kangaroo pocket to take out the book she remembered she’d been given. She put it down on the desk and sat on the big armrest, eyeing the leather cover as if it'd be enough to unveil all the secrets it held.

  
  


“Rose,” the Doctor started as he shuffled awkwardly in his armchair. “That might be a stupid question but…”

  
  


Rose raised an eyebrow at him, inquisitive, and noted that he was furiously chewing his inner cheek.

  
  


“What is it, Doctor?” she pressed, unnerved that he wasn’t willing to finish his sentence.

“I…” he hesitated for a great length of time.”Before we do any of this… I mean, I’m on the verge of dying, I’m losing my body and my mind, and… I just… I want to feel you before I can’t any longer. I want us to share… I want… I just… Please, my love. Kiss me?”

  
  


Rose melted in a wave of affection that was only tinged by a small spot of bitter sorrow - because she felt just as vulnerable as he was in that moment, and she knew he was right. This might be the last time they’d get to acknowledge their feeling for each other, the last time they could profess their undeniable love before a death they had never been that close to touch. She sighed softly and her fingers went to cradle his jaw, her eyes a fiery ode to her devotion towards this man, her best friend, incarnation of her strength and her courage, the love of her life, the only one for whom her heart was still beating. They shared a long look that was enough to speak of their deepest feelings without a sound, and Rose granted him with a kiss that could be their last. She wrapped her arms around him, fingers clinging at the nape of his neck, the others clenching around the soft material of his jack, his own slipping through strands of blond hair and pressing at the back of her head. Their lips met in a quiet breath, neither too hard nor too quick. Gentle bushes, a slow coordinated dance that came with the routine they had fallen into within days of being together, but that still felt like a first time.

 

It didn’t take long for Rose to feel his consciousness press at the back of her mind, a light push, like someone who wants to open a door just to take a peek inside a room. She immediately let him in and welcomed him, a deluge of emotions coming both ways and crashing into a wild tornado that blew everything away but the almost painful love roaring to life in their bodies. It was one of the rare time when even the Doctor was unable to whisper in her head, the rare time when the violence of their feelings was such that even the most complex of languages couldn’t have translated their depth and their power. Unstoppable, invincible, and suddenly, hope welded into the fire of that love. One hope, one love, one mind, one body, one fate. Only two possible outcomes. They would live together, or they would die together. Neither of them doubted that any longer. 

 

Their lips parted, softly, gently, then stretched into a soft smile.

  
  


“I love you, Rose Tyler,” the Doctor whispered with a brush of is knuckled on her cheeks.

“And I love you, my Doctor,” she returned the feeling, brushing her nose against his. “Hold on to that thought. Hold on.”

  
  


The Doctor nodded his assent, finally allowing himself to accept what she’d been trying to tell him for days. It was only then that he felt her presence fade from his mind, but quite oddly, he still didn’t feel alone. He could have recognized Rose’s essence among a million others, and despite his senses losing their acuteness because of the bloody curse, he knew it wasn’t her. With a frown of concentration, he tried to tune in on the unknown frequency, thinking it rather upsetting to have the privacy of his own head invaded without any kind of invitation. The murmur was low, unarticulated, and he couldn’t make any sense of it.

  
  


“Doctor, you alright?” Rose asked softly, scared he was experiencing another shortage of consciousness. 

“Come…” he mumbled under his breath, his eyes squinting shut. “Come to… Me. Come to me before…”

  
  


He remained silent for a whole minute that had Rose on edge, fiddling with the knot of his tie as she desperately tried to whisper him back to reason. 

  
  


“ _ Come to me before it’s too late _ ,” he suddenly recited. “A call from an Eternal Prophet. It has to be. No species can communicate telepathically with me from outside the Tardis. No species but theirs. “

“Do you think… It could be  a trap?”

“But why? All they have to do is wait for me to die. That’s all they want, they’d have no reason to call me back. They can get nothing more from me.”

“Someone who wants to help then. When you went to the Prophets, did one of them stand out?”

“Not really,” he shrugged with his left shoulder, the right one unable to comply with the movement anymore. “They all signed. They all wanted my life.”

“Maybe one of them has had a change of heart? Can you talk back to them?”

“Let me…” he started, closing his eyes again so he could focus on the distant voice. “Right… Trizek. She’s called Trizek. She’s… She wants me to go get her. Says she could help.”

“What do you think, then?” Rose pressed, thinking this was an unhoped-for plot twist in a story that had little chance of ending well. “Should we do it? We should, yeah? She could be the best shot we’ve got, right?”

“Only one way we can find out,” the Doctor grinned as he helped himself up with a push on her shoulder. “Nothing to lose, I suppose. And that gives us a starting point, at least. Come on, love, I don’t want to lose her signal. Let’s go.”

  
  
  


* * *

 


	13. Chapter 13

* * *

 

 

The Doctor leaned heavily against the console, still unable to stand on his feet without any means to ground himself, and picked a curious object that was linked to the circuitry with colourful wires. Rose eyed the contraption, a bit dubious. She had never seen it before and she had no idea what that metallic helmet he was adjusting on the top of his head could be for. She watched him stick some pads on his temples, tighten a few screws to fix the device around his skull, fiddle with some buttons on the side, and he offered a small smile of reassurance when he noticed her staring.

  
  


“This is to enhance the telepathic wavelengths,” he explained, flicking a few other buttons on the console. “We don’t want to spend any more time than strictly necessary on their bloody asteroid, so we’ll land  _ around  _ her and dematerialize straight away. This allows me to pinpoint her exact position, so we don’t accidentally land in the middle of their round table.”

“Does it hurt?” Rose asked with a brush of her fingers on his forehead.

  
  


The Doctor gave her a fond look - her everlasting consideration never failed to make his single heart stutter in his chest - and he shook his head, making the helmet jingle.

  
  


“No, it doesn’t,” he reassured her as he punched in a set of coordinates. “It’s just annoying. A bit like… You know when a song gets stuck into your head and getting it out becomes an obsession, but somehow the more you try to forget about it the stronger it gets? Same thing, but with thoughts.”

“Well, I guess that could be worse,” she chuckled, relieved.

“And I’m glad it isn’t,” he grinned, purposefully looking down at his arm and leg. “There’s only so much a Time Lord can take. So, ready to do this?”

“No. Not really.”

  
  


The Doctor raised his eyebrows, which disappeared under the rim of the helmet, and Rose just shrugged sheepishly in return.

  
  


“You… Might not like this,” she said, nibbling her lower lip and twisting a strand of blond hair around her finger.

“Well, there’s a lot of things I don’t like right now, I suppose one more won’t make much of a difference,” he wisely commented.

“It’s just… We don’t really know if that Prophet is being honest with us, and…”

  
  


She finished her poor attempt at an explanation in a resolved sigh, because she knew there was no point in beating around the bush when precious time was quickly ticking away.

  
  


“I want a gun. She signed for your death, maybe she just wants you to go to her so she can kill you faster, and I’m not taking any chances. I want a gun.”

  
  


This declaration left the Doctor gaping at her for a few seconds, and never before had he seen such fierce willpower shine in the depth of her eyes and emanate from her determined stance. And he understood that there was no point in arguing with her - given her strong, categorical tone, it was a fight he was bound to lose anyway. Oh, she was right. He didn’t like this. But despite his obvious reluctance at resorting to any kind violence, he couldn’t overlook the well-founded truth of her words. This was an unprecedented situation that didn’t leave any room to tempt fate. They couldn’t risk poking a benevolent monster with a stick without expecting any kind of backlash. A benevolent monster was still a monster.

 

The Doctor nodded and Rose suddenly relaxed, as if she had predicted the debate he had almost wanted to initiate and was relieved she wouldn’t have to embark on an hour-long speech to expose all her arguments in favor of having a weapon ready. He pointed to the other side of the console, and Rose was quick to go to the designated place.

  
  


“You should see a small lock,” he started to explain as her fingers ran on the smooth surface of the metallic plate and met the lock her was talking about. “There’s a Koeo inside the trap.”

  
  


Indeed, Rose found a small gun that seemed much too heavy compared to its size, and the weight of it in her hand sent cold shivers down her spine. She had seen countless movies in which such weapons were used, but this felt too real, too frightening, and she was almost afraid to hold it. The silver was cold under her fingers, the grip rough. The clinking it made as she turned it around sounded so different from what she thought it should. Much quieter. It made it even more terrifying. A silent death promise. The Doctor seemed oblivious to her sudden hesitation to use such a cruel object and kept pressing buttons and pulling on levers - he appeared to be keen on getting the landing location perfect this time, contrary to his habit of landing wherever and whenever his sudden urges took him.

  
  


“The security lever is on the right side,” he continued without looking at her, focused on one of the many bleeping screens. “It works like a semi-automatic firearm. I’ve only used it once, so the magazine should be almost full.”

“Okay,” she bowed her head in understanding, handling the gun more carefully than if it’d been a bomb about to explode.

  
  


She met him on the other side of the console and observed his last manipulations on the control panel, worry blooming in the pit of her stomach. He finally took notice of her distress, and his fingers came to wrap around hers on the grip of the weapon. He nudged her middle finger a bit lower on the grip and repositioned her thumb that was a bit too slack on the handle. Then, he grasped her other hand, guided it so it cupped the butt of the weapon, and Rose offered a shuddering chuckle when he pulled her index on the trigger.

  
  


“Your hold needs to be firm, but not too tight,” he advised, gently massaging the tensed tendons of her wrists. “Make sure to keep your arms straight. Don’t bend your elbows and don’t raise your shoulders. Keep you waist parallel to the target. The space between your feet should be roughly the same as between your shoulders. Most people tend to close their eyes when the pull the trigger for the first time. Don’t. You need to see what’s happening. Shoot only if you sense a real danger, okay? Don’t go berserk, if she’s here to help, we don’t want her dead.”

“Yeah, okay,” she breathed out, the gun feeling a bit slippery in her clammy hands. “I just hope I won’t shoot you by mistake.”

  
  


The Doctor smiled and gently cupped her jaw, bending a little to plant a soft kiss on her quivering lips.

  
  


“You won’t,” he comforted her, his nose brushing a path down her cheek until it found the small dip behind her ear and his mouth pressed against the side of her neck “I trust you, love. Trust yourself, hm?”

“I can try,” the answer coming along a sullen laugh.  “So, where should I stand.”

“Just over there. She should appear right in front of you. It’s going to happen quickly, so  _ don’t panic _ and don’t shoot unless strictly necessary.”

  
  


Rose took a deep breath and went to the spot he had vaguely pointed at. She shuffled on her feet to stand in the best position possible and aimed her gun straight ahead, giving him a pointed look when she felt ready. Without any preamble, he slammed his fist on a button, and the Tardis whirred to life, her powerful vibration echoed through Rose’s legs with so much force her knees almost buckled under her. The lights flicked on and off, the grating creaked in protest, and doors slammed shut in the distance, so many at once that a loud bang resonated in the console room.

  
  


“She’s not happy!” the Doctor warned in a shout to cover the cacophonous noises assaulting their ears. “Be ready, Rose!”

  
  


And Rose thought she was ready. Maybe not enough. Her breath got caught in her throat when a small figure wrapped in a deep green robe materialized a few feet in front of her, but she didn’t have enough time to decide whether it was coming in peace or not. All air was knocked out of her lungs as she was swept away from her feet by an unknown and powerful force, her back crashing on the grating and her head banging against a leg of a jump-seat, so violently her vision went white for a moment. She barely registered the gun being torn away from her hold, barely heard it fly across the room and hit the opposite wall, but she definitely heard the deafening sound of a bullet being fired followed by a heavy spritz sound that meant it had probably pierced one of the many pipes running on the ceiling. 

 

She scrambled to her feet as fast her trembling muscles would allow her to, the only thought groping its way through the mist of her confusion being  _ the Doctor, protect the Doctor, save the Doctor _ . One stride was enough for her to fall back down on her knees, the denim of her jeans tearing against a rough asperity of the grating and grazing the skin underneath, and she crawled her way to the Doctor, whom she noticed was also down on the floor. Unconscious. As soon as she reached him, she rolled her arms around him and pressed her body tight against his in a desperate attempt at shielding him from the Prophet.

  
  


“Please, please, please,” she begged under her breath, cradling his lolling head against her chest. “Please don’t hurt him, please don’t kill him.”

  
  


Overcoming her terror, Rose dared to take a look at the Prophet. She was smaller than she had imagined, and if it weren’t for all those things she seemed to be able to do without lifting a single finger, Rose might have tried to launch herself at her and kill her with her bare hands. The alien didn’t move, simply stared at the both of them for a long moment. Rose knew that if she wanted to kill them, nothing could stop her.

 

Rose felt the Doctor stir, and he began to mumble an incoherent string of words that she couldn’t understand, his fingers clenching around her tee-shirt as he tried to pull himself in a sitting position. She helped him as best as she could, her eyes widening when the fingers she ran through his tousled hair at the back of his hair met something thick, warm, liquid. Blood. He must have hit his head pretty badly on the grating, too. She cursed under her breath, and suddenly the Prophet didn’t matter anymore. Rose ignored the pair of jet-black eyes observing her and unknotted the Doctor’s tie from around his neck to press it tightly against the wound chiselling his head and stop the bleeding. A chortle left his lips and his whole body shuddered, a goofy smile spread over his features.

  
  


“Tickles,” he apologized with a giggle - and Rose felt her heart free-fall into her chest. “We should see the birds. Do you think birds are ticklish, too?”

  
  


Oh, this wasn’t good. Either he had fallen back into one of the moments he had told her about a few hours earlier, or he had hit his head so bad that most of his neurons had been knocked out of his brain. Rose didn’t like any of these prospects, and liked the consequences they could entail even less. She didn’t feel strong enough, smart enough, nor brave enough to deal with the Prophet and bargain for their lives. She needed the Doctor. Through the tears she hadn’t realized were now flowing from her eyes, she saw something that had a gasp fall from her lips. 

 

Her hold unconsciously tightened on the Doctor’s jacket as she watched Kuss, a gun in his hand, sneaking behind the Prophet. She had forgotten that he was still inside the Tardis with Fizz - he must have heard the wheeze of the time rotor and believed they had landed back on Vendea. Rose held her breath, trying hard not to betray the only being that could bring them a hope for solace, and watched as he slowly aimed his weapon at the back of the Prophet’s head.  _ Do it _ , Rose thought, so hard she got scared for a second she might have said it aloud.  _ Come on, do it. _

 

The sound of a shot broke the silence, but the Prophet didn’t bulge. Instead, Kuss groaned in pain and dropped his gun, shaking his skeletal fingers around as if he had been burnt by his own weapon. And the Prophet moved for the first time. Just a slight tilt of her head on the right. Just enough for Kuss to take a few steps back and for Rose to jump, terrified to find out what would happen next. The Doctor was still babbling nonsense into her ear, his face having decided the crook of her neck was comfortable enough, but Rose could do nothing to shut him up. She was petrified. She would have rather faced an army of Daleks a hundred times than endure the terrifying wait that made the atmosphere crackle with electricity and unbearable tension.

  
  


“They are done trying to kill me.”

  
  


Rose swallowed hard at those words, and was thankful for the Doctor snuggling closer to her - it gave her reassurance and comfort she desperately needed in that moment. She had finally spoken. An ethereal voice, calm, almost soothing, that flowed from the Prophet’s lips like thick honey. A voice like Rose had never heard in her life, and if she wasn’t forced to associate it with this horrible alien, she might have loved it. The Prophet tilted her head again, on the other side, and Rose felt a weird pull on her muscles that had her stand up, dragging the Doctor up with her before she could do anything to stop it.

  
  


“What are their names?” the Prophet asked.

“Rose Tyler.”

“Kuss An Ghur.”

  
  


They both answered in unison, their voices flowing along with that of the Doctor’s - a succession of singing syllables Rose could have recognized as his true Gallifreyan name, should she not be enthralled by the power of the alien that controlled her moves and her brain. Even if she had wanted to lie, she would have been unable to. The words had left her mouth before she could stop them, and she was most certain it had happened because of the alien’s influence.

  
  


“Will they try to kill me again?”

  
  


The three of them answered with negatives, and the Prophet offered a curt nod as a sign of satisfaction. Rose exchanged a quick look with Kuss, who shrugged in defeat. He obviously was as unable to resist the powers of the omnipotent alien as she was. She had the disagreeable feeling that she had been coerced into drinking some kind of truth serum - she tried to tell a blatant lie,  _ I hate the Doctor _ , but the words burnt her throat and her tongue, only a weird and painful gurgle sounding in her ears. Whatever happened, Rose was now convinced that they would have to submit. They all were at the mercy of the Prophet.

  
  


“If I wanted them dead, they would be dead already,” her delicate voice stated as she began to walk towards them -  _ hover _ , might have been a better term given how she seemed to be floating over the grating.

“Very true,” the Doctor suddenly spoke up, and Rose stared at him with an air of incredulity. “From what I’ve heard, the Eternal Prophets cannot lie. And neither can we in the presence of a Prophet. Don’t even try, you could lose the ability to speak for the rest of your life.”

“Are you flipping kidding me, Doctor?” Rose scowled, her eyes throwing daggers at him - though she was relieved to find out her voice was still fine.

“No, I’m not,” he shrugged with a sheepish smile. “Why, did you want to lie?”

“I tried,” she answered, immediately clasping her hands above her mouth to keep a shriek in.

“I tried, too,” Kuss added, looking even angrier than Rose was. “Damn you, Doctor, I told you I didn’t want to have anything to do with the Prophets.”

“Can’t see why,” the Doctor muttered - and winced when his fingers scratched the wound at the back of his head. “Can’t see much at all, as a matter of fact. Oh yes, Rose, did you know my eyesight has dropped by ninety-two percent between last night and this morning? That’s part of the reason why I need to hold your hand. I did a pretty good job at hiding it, didn’t I? Thank the Heavens, I know my way around the Tardis better than the back of my hand.”

  
  


Rose wished she could say she had a sudden craving that consisted in kicking his bum repeatedly until he couldn’t sit anymore and slap his face so hard the imprint of her hand would be part of his cheek for the rest of his days, but because it wasn’t really the truth, nothing left her mouth. The only truth she could feel was the pangs of hurt that came with the knowledge he had lied to her once  _ again _ , that he had kept such an important thing from her  _ again _ , that he hadn’t trusted her enough  _ again _ . And that was a truth she fought not to spill, lest she would go through an emotional breakdown in the worst possible situation. 

 

The Doctor knew that what he’d said was a fact he would have rather kept for himself. His intentions had been noble - he just hadn’t wanted to add anything more to a burden already too heavy on her shoulders - but he was starting to realize that what he had kept hidden from her was even heavier than the hard truths. His heart contracted painfully in his chest when he saw her face fell and her mouth pinch, and he wanted nothing more than to kneel on the floor at her feet to beg for her pardon. If only he wasn’t losing his mental capacities because of this bloody curse. If only he had been strong enough to speak openly about his feelings. If only the Prophet didn’t have such a powerful grip on their minds and bodies.

  
  


“I’m sorry,” was the only thing he could whisper, his fingers tentatively curling around hers.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” Rose glowered, swatting his fingers away.

“Look at the pair of you, fighting over this when there’s a bloody Eternal Prophet in the room,” Kuss snickered - he was obviously angry to have been dragged into this without his consent, and their bickering wasn’t helping taming his anger. “Do you two even love each other?”

  
  


Their answers came together. A weak, shy  _ yes  _ was swallowed by a loud, furious  _ no _ . Rose kept a straight, determined face. The Doctor kept a straight, impassive face. But they both wanted to cry. Her heart broke at her own answer, because it proved that what she had tried so hard to ignore was true. His heart broke at her answer, because it proved what he had tried so hard not to believe.  _ He doesn’t love me _ , Rose thought.  _ She doesn’t love me _ , the Doctor thought. It might have been just an impression, an odd consequence of the sudden revelation, but they felt like the temperature of the air had dropped down by a few degrees.

  
  


“Well, I’ll be damned,” Kuss crowed, a bitter grin tugging at his lips. “So, you’re basically telling me all of this is happening for  _ nothing _ ? I swear to the deities, I’ll kill the both of you myself if we survive this.”

“You don’t need to swear, we can’t lie, stupid prick,” Rose spat, fury taking over her sorrow. “Or maybe Ray Charles here  _ forgot  _ to tell us something again?”

“Ray Charles didn’t forget to tell you anything, Blondie,” the Doctor huffed just as angrily - because he suddenly realized that Kuss was right.

  
  


If Rose didn’t love him, all of this  _ was  _ happening for nothing. Everything he had done was all for nothing. The contract, the curse, giving his life to get her back, sacrificing everything just to see her smile again, all the suffering, all the pain, just for the chance to hold her hand again. But he had lost her. On that day, he had lost Rose Tyler. 

 

He wanted to throw up, bitter bile rising in his throat, he wanted to scream, he wanted to rip his chest open and throw his mutilated heart at her feet, he wanted to run far, far away and never see her again to spare his shattered soul the excruciating pain that came with the simple memory of her face. Because of the Prophet, he couldn’t do any of that. So he did the only thing he could do. He told the truth. He wobbled one step forward, his right leg dragging behind him with a squeaky sound because of his splint, he stood in front of the Prophet, and he told the truth.

  
  


“I want you to kill me.”

  
  


Time seemed to freeze for a moment, an eternity, maybe something in between. No one moved. No one talked. No one even blinked or breathed. A heavy silence, a somber atmosphere, a  dark slice of time stuck in a pearl of amber that only the Prophet could break.

  
  


“I came to help save them,” she finally said, tilting her head forward. “Is it not what they want?”

“Of course that’s what we want!” Rose interjected in a sob, terrified that the Prophet would grant him his request. “Doctor, don’t be stupid!”

“I said, I want you to kill me,” he repeated with more conviction, taking another difficult step forward.

“Yeah, kill him and spare us that Time Lord drama,” Kuss muttered under his breath.

“For the love of God, don’t listen to them! Doctor, come back here!”

  
  


Rose had started to cry in earnest and although she desperately ached to run to him, she found it impossible to even lift an arm to reach out to him.

  
  


“Come back?” the Doctor chuckled, turning his head to aim his blind eyes towards her. “Do you really think I have anything to come back to?”

“Don’t you have me?” Rose sobbed, her muscles screaming under the force of her hopeless attempts at moving.

“No, I don’t have you, Rose,” he shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I never have.”

“You  _ always  _ have. Please, Doctor, you  _ always  _ have. You have me, all of me, always. Why is it so hard for you to understand that? Why? Tell me why. Fucking tell me why!”

“Because letting you love me will end up killing you!” he roared, teetering on his feet so much as he turned around that he fell towards the console.

  
  


He managed to grab a lever just in time not to tumble down on the grating, his upper body lying over the control panel as he struggled to pull himself up on his feet. The rubber soles of his shoes didn’t adhere much to the grating in this position, and with a scowl of frustration he gave up, sliding down the console to sit against it. The sound of his own voice was still ringing in his ears, the meaning of the words lost in a deafening feedback that covered Rose’s cries and his own ragged breathing.

  
  


“Because letting you love me will end up killing you,” he repeated in a broken whisper, voice rough and trembling.

  
  


And suddenly he understood. That was the one truth he had kept hidden from her, and the one truth he had battled to bury in the darkest depth of his mind so he could try to keep living. Everything began to clear up in the fog of his mind and he understood. He thought back to all of these times he had rejected her help, all the times he had turned his back on her support, all the times he had abnegated her love. He realized he hadn’t done any of this wantonly. There had been a purpose. A purpose he hadn’t been conscious of, a purpose he had always refused to acknowledge because it was better to live with a small flame burning him from the inside, slowly, than die in a roaring brazier that could consume him within a second. Better to watch everything crumbling down over time in tiny heaps of ache than be buried under a whole life collapsing at once. He had spoken a truth he had done his very best to forget about. He had unconsciously tried to repudiate her. Because he wanted her to stop loving him. Because reason had been stronger than feelings. He wanted Rose gone from his life. He needed Rose gone from his life.

  
  


“Why?” Rose breathed out softly. 

“Because I’m a Time Lord,” he answered, unable to stop himself from finally spilling it all out - relief or torture, he would have been unable to decide what it felt like. “I’m not meant to love you.  And you’re not meant to love me. I almost killed you once. The day you came back. The day we joined our minds for the first time. I was so overwhelmed that I almost initiated a bond, but something was amiss. Something  _ hurt _ . I made some research in the library, and I found out that should I ever bond with you, you’d die. You human mind would be too weak to resist mine. You make loving you so easy, Rose. But you make being loved so hard. The more time I spend with you, the harder it gets to control these urges I have to meld my mind with yours. But I can’t give in.”

  
  


He stopped to take a deep breath, but the only intakes of air he got were those that came with the sobs making his stomach heave. Rose’s own sobs didn’t help.

  
  


“Rejecting you is the only way I’ve found to save you from me, Rose,” he kept going, daring to offer her a compassionate look overflowed with renewed tears. “I don’t even do it consciously. It’s just… This instinct I have to protect you, to keep you safe. I need to keep the danger away from you, and if I let you love me too much, I become the danger. If I give in, you die. I’ll keep rejecting you, even if I don’t want to, because deep inside I know that’s the only way I can save you. It kills me, but I’ll keep hurting you until I lose you. Let me lose you, Rose, just let me lose you. I beg of you, let me lose you.”

  
  


There was a long moment of silence that was only interrupted by a few quiet, quick breaths that were born from the few remaining sobs that didn’t want to be heard. Rose didn’t know what to think of this. She didn’t want to think of this at all. It didn’t make sense just yet, and she didn’t want it to make any sense at all. So she put everything she had just heard in a corner of her head and focused on the reason why they were all there.

  
  


“If you are quite finished,” she managed to say with a firm voice despite her constricted throat, “can Trizek tell us what we can do to try and save the Doctor. Please.”

“They don’t want the Doctor to die, then?” the Prophet asked, unwrapping her arms from her robe.

“No,” Rose almost shouted, scared that the other two would answer the opposite - she thought her truth had the right to prevail, and she refused to give up on the Doctor on his life, and, most of all, she refused to give up on her love for him, no matter what he’d said. “So, what do we do?”

“They must listen to what I have to say, first. Fear not, they will not see you.”

  
  


The Prophet snapped her fingers, and suddenly they weren’t on the Tardis any longer. Rose found herself standing in the middle of what seemed to be an assembly of other Prophets, all standing in a circle around a glowing portal. Kuss was still next to her, and the Doctor was a few feet away, sprawled on a cluster of massive rocks. It was dark, humid, gloomy. A huge cave carved into black stone, stalactites of deep emerald falling from the ceiling like sharp blades, streams of red water running down the crevices and pooling in small hollows.

  
  


“This is the Sanctuary,” Trizek started, walking around the circle of her peers. “Where the Eternal Prophets watch over the signatories through the Holy Mirror. This is everything we have done for billions of years. We are the First. We are Almighty. Our purpose was to reign over the universe and ensure its stability and prosperity.”

“Was?” Rose asked, starting to walk as well when she realized her movements were free again.

“We have no purpose any longer. We do not exist any longer. We merely  _ live _ . Our bodies are kept alive by the signatories, but our minds have been dead for billions of years. Some of us have something of a conscience left. I am one of those. And I believe we should die.”

“Why?”

“Because we suffer, and we make others suffer. We kill, just so we can keep killing again. Such is our life. Our glory, our grandeur, our pride are gone. Only shame and greed remain. I believe the universe doesn’t need us anymore. I believe that instead of creating stability, we create instability. The equilibrium of the universe now exists without us. I would go as far as to say we are imperilling this equilibrium. Especially if we kill the Doctor. He has lived for so long, and he is supposed to live for so long. He has done so much already, and he is supposed to do so much more. He is a constant. One of the few that need to live. That is why I want you to kill us. Kill us before the Doctor dies, and he will live. His life will be given back to him.”

“And how do I kill you, exactly?” Rose pressed, hoping she would be given a clear and sensible solution.

“To die, we need life,” the Prophet answered before she snapped her fingers again, and they were back on the Tardis. “I shall go, Rose Tyler. One day left before the Doctor dies. One day left to kill us.”

“Wait, how…”

  
  


But the Prophet was already gone. 

 

* * *

 


	14. Chapter 14

* * *

 

 

“One day left…” Rose murmured, staring at the empty space where the Prophet had been standing a second ago.

  


She had known the Doctor’s death was close given his quickly declining health and all the conditions accumulating over the span of a few days, but she had hoped for more. Her eyes went to the Doctor. She took in his body, and only then did she realize how he had changed. His body had turned skinny, almost skeletal, his face angular, all the bones sticking out from under a skin that seemed much too thin and much too pale. His closed eyes were underlined by dark circles, so dark it looked as if he just had gotten two black eyes after a lost brawl. Exactly like the day he’d come back for her. She should have seen it. She should have known something was wrong. If she had been more careful, more attentionate, maybe she would have had more time to fix this. More time to find a solution. But she hadn’t. A single day…

 

She saw his chest heave as he drew in a ragged, difficult breath. Suddenly, a grimace of pain pulled on his features when a rough, loud series of coughs made him bend forward with his hand fisting his jacket. There had been a time when she would have rushed to his side, made sure he was alright, soothed him through this powerful fit. But in that moment, she just felt powerless. Useless. She watched his head fall back, the thin streams of blood running down his nose, trickling down his chin from the corners of his mouth, the tears hanging from his eyelashes, his right light jerk ever so slightly. She didn’t know why, but it reminded her of that one time Mickey had hit a deer with his car. The poor animal hadn’t died right away. It had slowly bled to death on the side of the road, and she had been too petrified to do anything about it. She probably could have smashed its head with a stone to end its suffering, but she did nothing. She had watched it die. And she felt like she was doing the same with the Doctor.

  


“My p...Pills,” he stuttered, a shadow of a whisper leaving his lips along with a bubble of blood. “Ro… Rose…”

  


Rose was thankful her stomach had been empty for awhile, because hearing that distress and that pain in his voice would have made her sick. She swallowed with difficulty, her tongue and throat having been stuffed with dry cotton, and she slowly walked towards him before kneeling on his side. She wiped the blood from his face with the sleeve of her hoodie, but she didn’t look for the pills in his pockets. Might as well stick a plaster on his dead heart and give him contact lenses to fix his blind eyes. She slipped a hand behind his head so that it wasn’t resting on the hard metal of the console, and she simply wrapped her fingers around his. It wasn’t much, but it was the only thing she thought she could do to make him feel better - or at the very least, _pretend_ she could make him feel better.

 

Over the sound of the Doctor’s laboured breath and wheezing, Rose heard a slight ruffle of clothes behind her. She turned her head to look at Kuss, and she remembered his death threat when she saw the gun pointed in their direction. Under any other circumstances, she would have been terrified to be held at point-blank range, but in that moment she couldn’t feel much more than exhaustion and lassitude. They gauged each other for long seconds, Kuss playing with the security of his gun, Rose staring at him with raised eyebrows.

  


“Are we really worth your bullets?” she asked softly, nestling the Doctor’s face on her shoulder. “Look at us. We’re dead anyway.”

“You’re worthless,” he answered as he tightened his hold on the grip of his weapon. “But Fizz got into her head that you deserve our help for saving her. That’s a risk I cannot take.”

“You can’t help us,” Rose shrugged helplessly. “We can’t even help ourselves. Please, just… Let me be with my Doctor.”

  


Kuss seemed to hesitate and the canon of his gun wavered. Rose truly believe he was going to shoot, until his companion appeared behind him and pressed down on his wrist.

  


“Don’t do it, Kuss,” Fizz said, keeping the pressure on his hand until the gun finally lowered.

“Don’t tell me you’re on their side, sister,” he huffed as she took the weapon from his hand and hid it away in a flap of her toga.

“I’m not, but they did save me from Hell,” she stated, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Not out of charity. They saved you because the Doctor wanted this human back. It was an agreement, and we both have fulfilled our part. We should just head back to Vandea.”

“And how exactly?” she chuckled with a bitter look. “Unless I’m greatly mistaken, this Tardis won’t take us anywhere if the Doctor’s dead. We’re stuck here, and the only way we can get out is to save him.”

“Then we’re all dead,” Kuss sighed in defeat.

“We still have some time to try and find a solution. Come on, Kuss. This isn’t helping them, this is helping ourselves.”

“I knew this was a bad idea…”

  


Rose’s fingers unconsciously tightened their hold on the Doctor’s jacket as the two aliens  walked towards them with purposeful strides. She gasped when Fizz grabbed her collar to pull her back on her feet, and a horrified shriek left her mouth when Kuss did the same with the Doctor. The Time Lord moaned in pain as his knees buckled under his weight, and Kuss had to grab his arm and roll it around his neck, nudging him upward with a shove of his shoulder in his armpit.

  


“Be careful with him,” Rose protested, rushing to his side to support the Doctor’s weight that was tipping dangerously low on the left.

“Oh, trust me, I’m being careful,” Kuss snickered as he gave a few light slaps on the Doctor’s cheek. “Now, where’s the book I gave you?”

“In the library,” she scoffed, swatting his hand away to replace his fingers with hers on the blood-dirtied cheek. “What are you hoping to find in there? Not even the Tardis can translate your stupid book.”

“That’s the only thing we’ve got,” Fizz interjected while they started to walk towards the library. “That, and the little we know about the Prophets. Aren’t you supposed to be more… I don’t know, _willing_ to save him?”

  


Rose’s blood froze in her veins at those words and she realized that the alien was right. It really did feel like she had given up on all hope of saving the Doctor, and something snapped inside her. She had no right to give up on him, especially not after all the promises she had made to find a way to save his life. She needed to ignore the exhaustion that had turned her limbs to lead and the fatigue that stifled her willpower. The Doctor was on the brink of death because of her. She couldn’t be the reason he died. She needed to be the reason he lived.

  


“Let’s get your stupid book,” she said, resigned. “And stop hauling him like he’s a potato sack, he’s suffering more than enough.”

  


They wobbled towards the ancient looking door - a style that the Doctor liked because it reminisced him of the good old medieval times when libraries were considered a sacred source of knowledge. Rose flicked the rusty locket open and stopped right at the doorstep. Instead of the cosy atmosphere and the many deep red velvet armchairs and sofas, she was greeted by a cold, dark room in the middle of which stood some kind of bed surrounded by a dome of glass.

  


“Not many books 'round here,” Kuss commented.

  


Rose didn’t hear him over the pressing wave of impatience that flooded her mind. The room lit up with a soft buzz, a white, scorching neon light drowning the room and making her eyes squint in protest. The Doctor’s head lolled over her shoulder and she felt the light tug he managed to give her sleeve.

  


“What is this, Doctor?” she asked softly, cradling his jaw in her palm to relieve him of the effort.

“Stasis pod,” he murmured, the consonants of his words lost in a sloppy slur. “Might… Buy us some time… The… TARDIS…”

“What about her?” she insisted when the rest of his sentence failed to come out of his mouth.

“Up to something… Wants to help you… Listen to her…”

  


What little was left of his voice turned into a weak snore and his weight finally fell dead, his head dropping forward and his body collapsing in her and Kuss’ hold. The glass cover opened with a swoosh and a thick cloud of vapour mixed with dust that must have accumulated over the years - the whole thing looked old and Rose supposed it hadn’t been used for a long time, if it had ever been used at all.

  


“Help me lay him down,” she told Kuss, ignoring the way her knees bent under the heft of the lifeless body. “And be careful.”

“Whatever,” he shrugged - though he did try to move a bit more gently. “It’s not like he can feel much anyway.”

  


Thanks to their combined efforts, they managed to sit him down on the edge of the bed, and Rose slipped a hand behind his head to accompany his body down on the thinly-cushioned mattress. She barely jumped when two metal bars capped with sharp needles sprung from the side, one settling in his leg, the other in his arm. A mask fell above his face, and though it looked more than rudimentary, Rose didn’t question whether it could be enough or not and secured it around his head. Somehow, the mask made him look even weaker, the gaunt of his cheeks drawing sharp lines that disappeared under the green translucent plastic. What Rose imagined could be a piece of pop-art representation of death, blots of colours splashed over a white surface contoured with black. She had never liked pop-art much.

 

Rose weaved her finger between his cold ones and bent forward to press her lips on his forehead - lightly, just a brush, lest the skin would break under her touch.

  


“I guess I’m going on my first adventure without you, yeah?” she smiled, tears rolling down her nose, the pearls they gathered into crashing down in the corner of his own. “Won’t be able to scold me if I go wandering off this time.”

  


Of course, she could have added that she would give anything for him to look down on her with that irritated frown that never quite succeeded in hiding the indulgence underneath, to growl under his breath that she never listened to him, to lock his long fingers around her wrist to prevent any more wild chases around alien cities. An annoyed and furious Doctor was so much better than no Doctor at all.

  


“You’re not dying until you can give my ass a proper beating for everything I’m about to do, Doctor,” she whispered in his ear, letting the tip of her nose brush against his temple. “Hang in there. I love you. Just hang in there.”

  


After giving the apple of his cheek one last kiss, Rose stepped back, and the dome closed over the Doctor. She fiercely fought the thought that it looked as if he was now imprisoned in a glass coffin and turned on her feet before more tears could fall from her eyes.

  


“So, what do we do now?” Fizz asked, withdrawing into the corridor to let Rose walk past her.

  


The Tardis answered her question, the time rotor spurring to life in the console room. Rose rushed to the console room as the whole ship groaned and shook. The grating creaked and the coral struts vibrated with so much force she believed they would crumbled down all over again - and it was then that she realized wherever the ship was taking them must be very dangerous. Or far away, at the end of the universe, or another universe, even. Or both. That was the only reason that could explain the Tardis’ behaviour. Smooth rides were rare, Rose knew that, but she also knew that rides this hectic were even rarer. She stumbled towards one of the jump seats, and one thing managed to make her resolve falter and her fear flare back to life.

  


“Are you kidding me?” she breathed out as her fingers closed around the deep red velvet of the robe she recognized in a glance.

  


Precariously balancing herself on her feet, Rose unfolded the heavy garment and eyed the golden motifs sewn into the fabric. The first time she had seen it, she’d been looking for an 18th century dress in the wardrobe. It had also been the first time she had seen the Doctor genuinely angry at her. She had learnt the hard way - a broken nail when he had ripped it off her hands and a pure look of resentment that had had her melt down in a puddle on the floor - that she wasn’t allowed to touch it. He had barely explained her the reasons why, but a mumble about Gallifrey and Time Lord ceremonies had been enough to understand that robe was a painful reminder of what he had lost.

  


“He’s going to kill me if I wear this,” she lamented towards the ceiling, hoping the Tardis would find an alternative solution.

  


The Tardis wheezed in annoyance and deliberately jolted to make her stagger towards the consol. Encumbered by the weight of the robe, she lost her balance and ended up falling to the grating. She absorbed most of the shock with her hand, and she ewed when her skin slipped over a sticky substance. One look at her hand and she had to swallow a hard lump as she quickly wiped the blood on her jeans. The Doctor’s blood.

  


“Okay, I get your point,” Rose admitted, pulling herself back on her feet. “Gallifrey it is, then. You’d better land exactly where I need to be, ‘cause I have no idea what you want me to do, and we don’t have time for riddles, yeah?”

  


The sad hum that followed didn’t bode well, but Rose still slipped her arms into the sleeves of the long robe - that she was quite sure had been adjusted to her own size since the last time she’d seen it. She fastened it as best as she could with the many golden buttons and buckles and drew the hood over her head.

  


“Is that a party costume or what?” Kuss sneered as he took in her appearance. “Doesn’t look convincing to me.”

“Well, you’d better hope it is, because that’s the only thing we’ve got”, Rose mumbled, brushing off a few creases. “Know anything about Gallifrey? Anything about what I’m looking for?”

“How about this?” Fizz nodded towards one of the screens.

  


Rose examined the pictures of glass balls that had appeared, bubbles filled with a yellowish fog that shone brighter than small suns. Regeneration energy, if she wasn’t mistaken. Life, in its purest physical form. The one thing that could kill the Eternal Prophets.

 

Rose didn’t particularly liked the prospect of going to Gallifrey - from what the Doctor had mentioned, she knew its people weren’t the friendliest, and she doubted they’d give her what she needed willingly. She’d have to improvise, but at least she knew what she was looking for, which was so much better than anything that had happened so far. It gave her hope.

 

The Tardis finally came to a stop, the soft blue light of the time rotor dwindling down, and its consciousness tickled the back of Rose’s mind. The tickle suddenly turned into a harsh pang of hurt that had her wince, and her whole brain throbbed painfully against her skull.

  


“What are you doing?” Rose seethed between her grinding teeth, fighting wave after wave of searing invasion of her mind.

  


Her fingers clenched the sides of he head as her ears almost burst with a high-pitched buzz and a veil of black fell in front of her eyes.

  


“That is _so_ not helping,” she protested through a moan of pain. “Stop this, please, stop this.”

  


And, just as quickly as it had started, it stopped, answering her desperate plea. Rose took a moment to catch her breath and threw a dark look at the console, as if it could make the Tardis understand she wasn’t too fond of being mentally assaulted for no apparent reason. She adjusted her hood that had gone askew on her head with an annoyed puff, and turned to face Kuss and Fizz that happened to be staring at her.

  


“ _What_?” she growled, unnerved by their weird looks. “I don’t know what happened, okay? So don’t ask me.”

“Can you… Understand us?” Fizz asked, tilting her head on the side.

“Of course I can, what the Hell is wrong with you now?”

“Damn, that’s creepy,” Kuss chuckled, walking towards the console to point at a screen. “Can you read this, then?”

  


Rose rolled her eyes and begrudgingly looked at the screen he wanted her to see.

  


“Yeah, I can, why…”

  


Rose’s breath hitched in her throat  when she suddenly understood. She could see the hundreds of different Gallifreyan symbols, the intricate patterns of circles and lines and dots she had always considered to be the most beautiful written language she had ever seen. Except now, she could also understand them. Wherever her eyes fell, every symbol translated into a word or an expression, some of them she was convinced had no equivalent in English.

  


“Okay…” she started, but had to stop with her palms slapping against her mouth when she realized no word had come out, only a short string of melodious, singing notes.

“Well, that must be worth a hundred costumes,” Fizz commented with a grin. “No better way to fit in a crowd that speak their language, I suppose. I think you’re ready to go, human. Bring back those magic balls and save your Doctor.”

  


Rose could only nod, not daring to speak again, and offered them a curt nod before walking towards the door with quick strides. The faster she found what she needed, the more chances she’d have to save the Doctor. She couldn’t fail him. She wouldn’t fail him.

 

 

* * *

 


	15. Chapter 15

* * *

 

 

As soon as she stepped out of the Tardis, Rose was swallowed by a wave of heat and her eyes squinted against the harsh light shining above her head. She looked up at the sky, and despite the emergency of the situation she could only stare in wonder at the two suns hanging high on a yellowish sky dotted with a few fluffy clouds. One was big enough to surround the whole city that proudly stood before her, encased in a glass globe topped with something that resembled some kind of highly modern building. The other was much smaller and probably much older given the power of its rays drowning the whole scenery in a bright orange glow - or so the few things she remembered from the Doctor’s lessons on stars hinted. It was all a perfect balance between raw nature and cutting-edge technology, the state-of-the-art city surrounded by hard black rocks randomly thrown on an otherwise naked desert. From the distance, it almost looked like a surrealist painting she could have found in a contemporary art museum, and she came to regret the fact that the Doctor had always dodged her questions about his planet. Seeing that eerie landscape made her want to know more about Gallifrey. She was convinced there were thousands of secrets and hundreds of wonders to be discovered on this small planet, and she would have given anything just to visit all those places where the Doctor had once lived. But there wasn’t enough time to daydream about this. Every second that ticked away was a painful reminder of the very reason why she was standing on this thin sand, on this planet.

 

She pulled on her hood to protect her eyes from the blinding reflection of the sunlight against the desertic ground and she started walking towards the city - the only place around and the only place she was sure was sheltering what she needed. But she could only take a few steps before she had the odd feeling of being watched. She looked everywhere around her, but she was alone. Not a soul in sight, save from a tiny animal she spotted scurrying into a hutch conveniently hidden by long blades of dry grass. She tried to shake it off and ignore the worry bubbling in her stomach, and she started walking again, shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her robe. Three more steps and the same gnawing oppression poked her in the back, making the thin hair on the nape of her neck rise in fear.

  


“Don’t be scared, love,” she heard the voice she could have recognized between a million others at the first syllable say softly.

  


A gasp fell from her lips and she spun around to be faced with nothing but the Tardis, patiently waiting where she had left it moments ago. She was sure she hadn’t imagined that voice, it had sounded much too clear and too real for it to just be a wishful hallucination.

  


“Doctor,” she whispered into the wind, desperately trying to find him. “Where are you?”

“I’m sorry, love,” his voice breathed into her ears. “I’m not really here. The stasis pod you put me it allows me to communicate with you through telepathic waves. You need to hurry, I won’t be able able to keep this up for long. Go to the Academy. Once you’re there, I’ll come back to guide you.”

“Wait, where is the Academy? How do I get there? Doctor?”

  


Only the breeze answered. He was already gone. She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat and did her best to reign her tears It had been much too long since she'd heard that voice speak with so much calm and so little pain, and it was hard to conceive she might never hear it again. It struck a chord deep within her, to realize she might never really hear that voice again should she fail. _I won't fail him_ , the thought virulently drummed in her brain.No, she wouldn't. She would save the Doctor, and have plenty of time to cry after saving him, but in that moment she needed to remain focused on her task. She spurred her feet into a fast run along the small path delimited by tiny pebbles she hoped would lead her where she needed to go. The big city had seemed close enough from the Tardis, but she now realized it was no more than a perspective deception. For long minutes, she almost believed she was simply running at a standstill and that the hem of her robe flagging behind her was just an effect of the soft zephyr blowing around her. She reached the steep slope of a dune after what seemed to be a mile long run that made the muscles in her legs ache and her lungs expand painfully in her chest, and behind the mount of sand she finally saw the beginning of a larger trail that snaked towards the base of the glass globe. Her anxiety grew exponentially worse when she spotted the two guards dressed in golden armors standing at the large entrance, and she had no idea how she would get past them.

 

Before she could be seen, she reduced her pace until she was only swiftly walking and she wiped the beads of sweat she felt rolling down her temples.

  


“Doctor, what do I do?” she begged under her breath, her eyes closing momentarily as she waited for an answer. “Come on, what do I do?”

  


But she was still desperately alone. She could only count on her disguise and her ability to speak their language - she highly doubted it would be enough of an illusion to convince them she was one of them, but there was nothing more she could do. She trusted the Tardis wouldn’t have sent her on a suicide mission and she hoped the good ship hadn’t overestimated her ability to lie and play pretend. Her heartbeat quickened as she marched towards the guards with a confidence she most definitely didn’t feel. The rhythm of her steps faltered when two scepters crossed in front of the door, each held by one of the guard to bar her way.

  


“Where are you coming from, Lady?” one of them asked with a frown, intimating her to stop walking with a shake of his hand.

“The Karn Hills,” Rose answered, her eyes widening when the words left her mouth before she could stop them. “My Tardis crashed behind the Gefftee dune. Defective time rotor. I barely made it through the atmosphere, I’m lucky that rubbish tin can didn’t make me use a regeneration.”

“I see,” the other smirked, looking down at her hand she realized was still covered in the Doctor’s blood. “And why are you alone?”

“The Caretaker personally asked me to find some Chesi rubies for his time scale,” she kept going, quite unable to understand where all those ideas were coming from, but glad to see they seemed to be convincing enough. “Now if you’ll allow me, I have a debt to settle with the Ghunda.”

“Ha,” the second guard laughed at the mention of that name. “Don’t try to hit him too hard, I was told the Noble’s already seen him two moons ago. Wasn’t pretty.”

“I just want my credits back,” she shrugged, a wave of relief coursing through her when the scepters were taken away from the door. “Could you send someone to tow my ship back?”

“That bad, huh?” the second guard asked, his eyebrows disappearing under the hem of his headpiece. “We’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

“Thanks.”

  


Rose offered a curt and quick nod as a goodbye, unable to believe what had happened. She couldn’t understand half the words she had spoken, had not a single clue as to what these rubies, or even these persons, were, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She would take every little thread of luck she was offered. She finally stepped into the city, a maze of streets bordered with tall buildings and small houses forking in front of her in so many directions she could only feel lost and disillusioned. She supposed the Academy the Doctor had told her about was some kind of vast complex gathering every student of the city and its suburbs, with buildings that looked different from the others. But to her eyes, every single house and building was different. Some with round shapes, others square blocks, gold or silver, some standing so high she couldn’t make out their tops, some so small they had to be troglodyte houses for people who disliked the sunlight. It was both beautiful and disheartening. She looked for a sign, a street name, anything that could have indicated the right way to take, but there was nothing. She wished the Tardis had predicted the issue and provided her with a map.

 

She approached a woman who was sitting on a bench, thinking she might as well ask for directions rather than wandering the streets for hours without ever finding what she was looking for.

  


“Hello, um, excuse me, I’m looking for the Academy,” she said, wincing at how odd her voice sounded when speaking Gallifreyan.

“Ha, not from the Citadel, I take it?” the woman smiled as he put down the heavy book she had been reading. “You’re a bit late for the ceremony, dear.”

“I know,” she nodded with a falsely sad shrug. “Do you mind…”

“Not at all, Lady. It’s fairly easy from here. Go straight up that street, turn right at the bank until you find the Sheeva statue. Then take a left to the Library, and the entrance to the Academy is right next to it. You can’t miss it. You’d better hurry, latecomers never make a good impression on the Headmaster.”

  


Rose thanked her with a smile and a quick hand gesture, trotting into the street she had been shown that stretched so far into the distance she couldn’t see where it ended. She followed the curve of the path for long minutes, her eyes going from one building to the other until she found one that seemed to correspond to a bank. There was a large double door engraved with a weird symbol she recognized as being the one of the local currency - a Gallifreyan circle twined with flowers and topped with a crown. She steadfastly ignored the odd, suspicious looks she got on her way and ran just a hit faster towards the large statue dominating a beautiful fountain she had no trouble spotting. Hard to miss a statue that was taller than every building around it. It didn’t take long to reach it, and she would have been surprised by how well things were going, if it weren’t for the dozens of different paths sprouting from the fountain to stretch into yet another labyrinth.

 

Thankfully, the area was full of other people she could ask for help - from old women peeling the local version of oranges to young men playing board games on the edge of the fountain, surely one of them could show her the right direction. At least she thought so, until her ear hooked on a whisper coming from an old man walking past her.

  


“Who are you?”

“We don’t want strangers around here,” another voice muttered.

“If you’re an alien, you’ll go to prison,” a kid sitting on a small wooden bicycle piped up with a broad smile.

“Leave or die.”

  


Renewed worry bloomed in her stomach when she saw everyone was staring at her with either contempt or anger in their eyes. There wasn’t a single person _not_ looking at her and Rose felt like a prey waiting to be attacked by a horde of predators. She whispered a soft apology as she took a few steps back, trying to keep all of them in her field of vision should any of them try to assault her. She slowly backtracked into one of the streets - it didn’t really matter which one in that moment, she just needed to escape the threatening atmosphere. She didn’t know what was giving her away. Her outfit was like all the others and as long as she didn’t open her mouth or did something out of the ordinary, there was no telling she was a stranger. Still, people somehow knew she didn’t belong. She pulled her hood lower on her forehead and hurried along the street that was thankfully deserted, hoping the Library wasn’t far, or at the very least somewhere in that direction.

  


“Follow me.”

  


She drew a sharp breath in when the Doctor’s voice echoed in her ears again and her stomach swooped when she saw his tall figure brush past her and stride into the adjacent street.

  


“Doctor, what…” she started, jogging behind him to keep up with his fast pace.

“This is a memory. Follow it. Time is running out, you’ll need to be _very_ quick.”

“Those people… How do they know?” she asked in a whisper - though she knew he heard her through telepathic waves, she felt the need to voice her thoughts to that apparition leading her through the city.

“This is the Time Locked Gallifrey,” he explained as his image disappeared into an alley. “Nothing can change here. Same people, same day, same things happening all over again. You’re not supposed to be here. You’re not part of that moment in time and you stick out like a sore thumb. You’re one cog too many in the well-oiled machinery and they can feel it. They can see something’s amiss. The longer you stay, the more they’ll see you. That’s why you need to hurry.”

“Doctor, I’m… I’m not sure I can do this without you,” she lamented, the panic dwindling into an even worse feeling of helplessness.

“If there’s anyone I would trust my life with, it’s you love,” he reassured her, accompanying his words with a wave of comfort and affection. “I can’t stay long. I’m too weak and I need to keep what little’s left of my energy if I want to survive. The Academy is up there. It’s the secondary entrance, you shouldn’t meet anyone, they’re all at the graduation ceremony in the Time Gardens. Go to the second floor, find the door with the Hourglass on it. You’ll find what you need in there. Take as many Capsules as you can and run back to the Tardis. Don’t stop, don’t look back, just run.”

“Yeah, okay, I can do that,” she said through a deep exhale.

“Of course you can. Now go, Rose.  I love you. I’ll wait for you.”

“You’d better, stupid Time Lord,” she chastised, going up the small flight of stairs to the entrance. “Okay, I’m in. I’ll see you later, yeah? Love you, Doctor.”

  


Before his presence completely faded, she felt a light, phantom pressure on her cheek and brush against her hand, one last goodbye until she either saved his life or doomed him to die. She grasped onto the last of her courage and stepped into the large, luxurious corridor. Dozens of doors were neatly aligned at regular intervals, each sporting a different engraving she supposed was linked to a particular subject taught in the Academy. The floor was made of deep red tiles painted with Gallifreyan symbols that had faded a bit over the years - possibly centuries, given how old the building seemed to be compared to all those houses she had seen on her way. A faint clamour reached her ears and she heard something akin to the beginning of a speech somewhere far away, but still close enough to send shivers down her spine. If she was found, hundreds of people would be on her heels, and she highly doubted she’d be able to outrun all of them. Thankfully, just like the Doctor had predicted, the corridor was empty, the sounds of her steps echoing against the marble walls soft and yet too loud to her liking. She climbed up another flight of stairs to the second floor, careful to take a peek at the corner of the wall to make sure it was just as desolate as the first one. She ran up the smaller corridor, searching for the door the Doctor had described, and it didn’t take long before she found it.

 

Not wanting to waste a single second more, she burst into the room and her eyes trailed over the different glass-doored cupboards, bookshelves and desks, until she spotted the numerous tiny glass balls filled with yellow light behind the window of a showcase. She rushed to it and pulled on the handle, only to find it was locked.

  


“Oh, sod it,” she swore under her breath, rolling her hand into the large sleeve of her robe before she punched through the glass.

  


Rose picked up as many balls as she could at once without cutting her hands on the debris and shoved them in her pockets, relieved to find out they were just as transdimensional as the ones of the Doctor’s suit and wouldn’t fall on her way back to the Tardis. There were at least thirty of them and it took a full minute to take all of them - might as well steal everything, just in case, she thought. Just as she picked the last one, she heard the door of the classroom open behind her and a deep, threatening voice shout at her.

  


“What are you doing here? Who are you?”

  


The shock that made her heart miss a beat also made her lose her grip on the last tiny globe, and it crashed on the floor, breaking into dozens of small pieces. Before she could hold her breath, the golden vapours escaped from their broken nest and found their way to her lungs. She firmly believed that would sign her death, but it only caused her throat to itch and a series of coughs flow past her lips - and if her brain wasn’t swimming in a pool of adrenaline and panic, this would probably have made her reconsider the salutary potential of those balls. But there wasn’t any time to try and understand, no time to think, no time to feel. Not dwelling on the incident any longer, she gathered the hem of her robe and broke into a run, shoving the small man with a strong push of her shoulder. She abode by the Doctor’s instructions and rushed down to stairs despite the shouts flying past her ears like bullets.

  


“Stop her!” a woman’s voice cried out, joining the growing crowd Rose could discern though the sound of her laboured breathing. “She’s stealing from us, she’s not one of us!”

  


Rose remained deaf to the invectives and kept running, relieved to see she remembered where to turn. Some people tried to bar her way, but her fast pace gave her enough momentum to push them away and break through their weak attempts at barricading the streets - it obviously was a peaceful part of the city and all those people weren’t used to deal with delinquents, it seemed. Soon, she reached the bank again, and she realized she was far from being out of the mud. The Tardis was still very far away and her muscles were already starting to hurt. She had to dodge the knife an old woman threw at her from her window and jumped over a small carriage of vegetables that had been rolled in the middle of the street. Her robe was getting uncomfortably hot and it made it all the harder to breathe - or was it a side effect of the vapours she had inhaled, she couldn’t be sure. Not like she was in any position to ponder about that anyway.

 

She could hear the glass balls clink into her pockets and that was enough to tame the growing pain in her kidneys. _The Doctor, this is for the Doctor_ , she kept thinking, those words cascading down her heavy puffs when her throat didn’t burn enough to stop them. The exit was getting close and she knew the harder was to come. In the city, it was easy to shield herself from the projectiles that were launched at her, using the corners of the walls as a protection or taking sharp turns into tiny alleys that linked the bigger streets. Outside, she would be an easy target. Out in the open.

 

She rushed past the two guards she had previously met and this time they weren’t as cooperative. She winced when she heard the dreadful sound of guns being taken out of their holsters and she unconsciously diverted her course every few seconds in the vain hope that would save her from their bullets. No such luck. She cried out in pain when a searing pain shot through her shoulder blade and stumbled forward, falling down on her knees.

  


“Shit, shit,” she growled as she scrambled back to her feet as fast as she could. “Come on, not now.”

“Stop, you thief!” one of the guards shouted. “I’ll keep shooting! Stop!”

  


She ignored the warning and just kept running, neglecting the blood she felt trickling down her back and the painful pulses of liquid fire that spread up to her shoulder and deep into her bone. Lightheaded and dots of light starting to float before her eyes, she finally reached the top of the steep slope she hoped would hinder their chase and keep her sheltered from their incessant firing. She welcomed the sight of the Tardis waiting at the end of the path with a groan of relief, and that single sight was enough to forget about the pain, the heat, the fatigue. She raced even faster, the blue door opening when the Tardis sensed her approach, but she wasn’t fast enough to avoid another bullet that nestled in her thigh.

  


“For God’s sake,” she whimpered, failing to anchor her body to the Tardis door before she fell again.

  


She dragged herself inside the ship and struggled to push herself up, slamming the door shut behind her.

  


“We need to go, come on, please, go,” she begged to the ship as the door rumbled under the impacts of a bullet rain.

“But you’ve just left,” Kuss, who was standing at the exact same place she had left him, informed her with a frown. “Like, ten seconds ago.”

“Timey-wimey,” Rose breathed out heavily, borrowing the Doctor’s words. “I've got what I came for. Please, old girl, just go.”

  


The time rotor was immediately spurred into motion and the ship wheezed and shook as it dematerialized, away from Gallifrey and into the time vortex. It was only then that Rose collapsed onto the grating, unconscious, her wounds bleeding profusely and her skin turning pale as death.

 

* * *

 


	16. Chapter 16

* * *

 

 

Everything hurt. Except it wasn’t hurting where she expected it. Her memories of her last moments before she had succumbed to a crashing wave of exhaustion and pain were a bit fuzzy, but she distinctly remembered having gotten shot in the back and in the leg. But instead of searing burn spreading from the gunshot wounds, like that one time after the disastrous conclusion to their escapade to the Huxley prison, the pain was different. A heavy pressure in the middle of her chest that crushed her heart and her lungs into a vise-like grip. Her every muscle, straining, her every vein, pulsing with liquid fire, her every pulse points, throbbing in tandem with her wild and hard heartbeat. Her skin, burning, her brain, hammering against her skull, her teeth, grinding together in a useless reflex to tame the pain.

 

Rose tried to lift a finger, but her whole arm screamed in protest. She tried to open her eyes, but the dim light was enough to blind her. She tried to take a deep breath, and realized that her lungs were already full and that she hadn’t breathed for a whole minute - maybe the roaring headache was just a consequence of air deprivation, she thought. She felt cold, long fingers splayed over her forehead, and another hand rest over her shoulder in a soothing touch.  _ Wake up _ , a gentle voice breathed into her ear, or into her mind, she couldn’t really tell the difference through the messy tangle of her thoughts. A small, weak smile tugged at the corner of her lips and she bought her own hand to the one on her shoulder, twining their fingers together. 

  
  


“Doctor,” she whispered, her voice faint and a little raucous, much like after waking up from a long night of sleep.

  
  


The hand clung to her shoulder tighter, and the fingers on her forehead moved to cup her jaw. She leaned into the soft touch with a contented sigh, and she reminisced just how wonderful the Doctor’s skin against hers felt, and how much she had missed it.  _ Wake up _ , the voice told her again. How much time had passed since she had fainted, she didn’t know. She had this odd feeling that it had been something close to four hours and thirty-two minutes, but it was preposterous to think she could pinpoint that length of time with so much precision - she just put it on the fact that her brain was in a bit of jumble and that she wasn’t thinking clearly. Why she had fainted, she didn’t know. Oh, she vaguely remembered getting shot, but the reasons for such a unfortunate misadventure remained a mystery. It didn’t really matter. What mattered was that the Doctor was with her and that he was taking care of her. He had this power to make her feel better with one brush of his lips and one squeeze of his fingers around hers, and that was more than enough.  _ Wake up _ , the voice insisted, and the hand on her shoulder pressed harder against the joint, two other hands clasped around her face.

  
  


“‘M tired, Doctor,” she murmured as his hands gripped her tighter and started to shake her. “Please, don’t do that. Hurts.”

“Wake up, for Ciff’s sake!”

 

Oh, that was a voice she knew, but that definitely wasn’t the voice of the Doctor. She groaned, both in pain and annoyance, when the back of her head slammed against the uncomfortable mattress she was lying on and made the searing headache flare back to life. One thing was sure, the Doctor would never do that to her - and she started to understand that this wasn’t the Doctor at all. Her eyes shot open and she hissed when the soft orange glow of a spotlight made them burn. The hands that were holding her disappeared, and she did her best to blink several times to quickly get used to the sudden light. She might be in a vulnerable position - that voice, she had no idea why but she associated it with danger. She struggled a moment to rise to a sitting position and swung her legs on the side, looking around to spot the foes that supposedly posed a threat as well as some kind of weapon she could use to defend herself despite her weakened state - never let it be said that Rose Tyler was of the kind to give up because of a sore body and a headache. But she only saw two figures clad in robes, back pressed against the wall and eyes widened in fear. 

  
  


“Don’t kill us, yeah?” the taller one smiled that kind of unsure and quivering smile. “We’re here to help save the Doctor, remember?”

“Save the Doctor?” Rose managed to ask despite her dry tongue and funny-feeling throat.

“Eternal Prophets, cursed contract, dying Time Lord, you remember all of that right?” the smaller one added, looking as uneasy as her friend. “Dammit, Kuss, I think she hit her head a bit too hard.”

“She didn’t hit her head,” he said, somber. “It’s that…  _ Thing _ . Do you remember what happened, human?”

“Kuss…” she whispered - the more she looked at his face, the clearer her thoughts got, like a breeze blowing the fog away. “Kuss and Fizz, yeah? And the Doctor… Where is… Oh God.”

  
  


Everything flood back to the forefront of her mind and the deluge of information only made her headache worse.  _ Save the Doctor _ . That single thought hammered against her skull and she let herself fall to her feet, having to grasp onto the edge of the infirmary bed so her weak knees wouldn’t give out under her weight. 

  
  


“The capsules,” she grunted, chancing a few steps towards the two aliens who froze and huddled up tighter against the walls. “Come on, the capsules, where are they?”

“Still in your costume,” Fizz answered, groping her way to the door. “We didn’t touch it. Are you still… Dangerous?”

“What the Hell do you mean now?” Rose frowned, clutching at the front of her jumper as if it would be enough to soothe the growing pain in the pit of her chest.

“She did lose a hand because of you,” Kuss pointed out with an eloquent look down.

  
  


Rose followed his gaze and gasped when she saw the tight, blood-dirtied fabric tightly wrapped around her wrist. The hand was gone. 

  
  


“I didn’t do that,” Rose denied with a forceful shake of the head despite her pain. “I’d never do that.”

“Maybe not on purpose,” Kuss shrugged, relaxing a little as she took a few steps to the side. “But you did. You started shooting flames out of your hands just as we picked you up to bring you here and… Poof. Melted flesh and broken bones, and her fingers fell off like withered leaves from a branch. Wasn’t pretty.”

“Look, I’m not a magician, nor a pyromaniac and I don’t shoot fire from my fingers, yeah?” she grumbled, unable to believe they were losing precious time over this stupid accusation. “Now, I think we still have to save the Doctor before he… He…”

  
  


Rose couldn’t find it in her to finish her sentence and simply sighed, pressing her fingers against her temples to rein the galloping headache blurring her vision and making it hard to even breathe. She didn’t have time to listen to their nonsensical and fantasist story - surely she’d have long noticed if she were capable of such a superheroic feat - and every minute ticking down brought all of them closer to a certain death. She threw them a dark, purposeful look and tottered back to the console room, her weak legs wobbling so much she had to tug on her jeans to propel each of her steps. She spotted the deep red Gallifreyan robe lying not far from the door and eyed the darker, large spots coating the velvety material around the two holes that pierced the fabric. But what struck her the most was the smell. The smell of burnt wood and melted iron, charred flesh and heavy smoke that lingered in the air like a nefarious poison.  _ You do not shoot fire from your hands, Rose Tyler _ , she thought to herself, ignoring the carbon black traces on the railing and the white vapours still floating around like a thick mist. That thought came with an amused hum from the Tardis, and something that resembled a giggle.

  
  


“You think that’s funny?” Rose sputtered at the ceiling of the ship, crossing the remaining distance to the robe. “D’you even think now is a good time to laugh? I’m trying to save your friend, here, we’ll have plenty of time to laugh when we’re all dead, stupid ship.”

  
  


A hurt wheeze replaced the merry hum, but she didn’t pay any attention to it. She wasn’t about to let the Tardis interfere with rude comments and inappropriate  reactions. She bent down to pick up the robe, but her lightheadedness made her lose her balance and she would have crashed down head first onto the grating of it hadn’t been for Kuss tugging at her jumper to pull her backwards. She thanked him under her breath and gathered the long robe into her arms, relieved to hear the many capsules safely tucked in the pockets clink together - at least, that meant most of them were still intact.

  
  


“So, how do we proceed?” the alien asked, helping her back to her feet. “Having this is good, but it would better to know what to do with them.”

“I… I don’t know,” Rose admitted, the short-lived relief swallowed by a renewed wave of worry. “I suppose… We just need to find a way to make the Prophets breathe that energy in.”

“There are thirteen of them,” Fizz reminded them, cradling her crippled limb against her chest. “Even if one of these capsules is enough to kill one, there’s only three of us. No way we can kill them all, we’d all be dead before we even get a chance to strike a fourth.”

“We need… Do we need more people, then?” Rose suggested - though even she couldn’t tell how they would find ten other souls willing to risk their lives to the Prophets. 

“That, or…” Kuss started, pensively scratching his temple. “We hit them all at once.”

“And how would you do that, exactly?” she sighed as she started to walk back to a jump seat, unable to stand on her exhausted legs any longer.

“I was a activist for the Freedom of Shki a few years back,” he explained, following in her steps. “I won’t get into details, but… I can make a mean bomb from scratch if you have the parts. Put all of your magic balls inside it, throw it in the middle of their little assembly and boom, life explosion. Bit weird, considering this is to kill them, but if that’s what it takes... The thing is, we’d only get one shot at this.”

“Kuss, whatever we do, we’ll only ever get one shot anyway,” Fizz wisely inputted.

“And we’re running out of the Time. The Doctor, he’s… It won’t be long. I feel him and he’s so… Let’s just go for it, Kuss, what do you need?”

  
  


Rose took a mental note of every item he enumerated, from batteries to aluminium foil and a digital watch, and she silently asked the Tardis to provide all of them in the workshop she knew to often be next to the laundry room. The ship was still a bit miffed by her angry retaliation but even it could sense the urgency of the situation and offered the equivalent of a nod in the form of a harsh tug at the back of her mind. 

  
  


“Follow me,” Rose told them as she carefully folded the robe and got back to her feet. “How long do you think this will take?”

“With good tools, about half an hour,” Kuss answered, following her through the corridor. “Let’s just hope your Doctor won’t kick the bucket before then.”

“He won’t.”

  
  


They entered in the small workshop the Doctor often use when he needed to tinker with parts of the Tardis and an odd feeling ran past Rose. The last time she’d been there had also been one of the very few last occurrences when he’d been well enough to smile and laugh and love her. Nothing had moved. The brown tie embroidered with blue flowers thrown haphazardly over a chair -  _ can’t possibly focus with a tight leash around my neck, Rose _ . The pile of cables and leds entwined over the desk - _ I want a low power garland to hang around the console, Rose, it lacks a bit of decoration _ . An alarm clock, that was magically still ticking, reduced to a small heap of electrical components, wires and circuits flying off in every direction -  _ I need a clock that only I can hear so I don’t wake you in the morning, Rose _ . And there, in the corner, buried under a big white sheet, the one thing the Doctor thought she had never noticed - she’d been wise enough not to make any comment, because she wasn’t quite sure what it meant. 

 

A beautiful, though ancient Gallifreyan cradle carved out of wood and painted with a rainbow of blue shades, a mobile of planets and satellites attached to one of the bars. She guessed it had once belonged to him, some kind of relic that could remind him of his planet and his childhood. That didn’t explain why he could spend hours planing its surface, fixing the nicks with wood paste, paint over the scraped off patches. Why he had replaced the mattress, changed the moth-eaten blue sheet, added a replica of Earth to the mobile and tuned its music so it sounded like a human lullaby. Deep inside, she wished this secret he kept away from her was the same secret she kept for herself. But they hadn’t even talked about bonding much, just a few mentions here and there, so it seemed a bit preposterous that the Doctor would even think about kids. Not like he was into domestics, anyway.

 

Rose brushed those thoughts aside and watched as Kuss sat at the workbench, not wasting a second to gather all the elements and start fiddling with wires and other electronic parts she wasn’t even sure were working properly.

  
  


“Do you want me to stuff all the balls in there or would you rather keep a few?” the reptilian alien asked, reaching for a large glass case that supposedly would hold the precious life energy.

“One shot, Kuss,” Rose repeated with a shrug. “Might as well give it our best.”

“Yeah, suppose you’re right. You should, uh, I dunno, say goodbye to your Doctor? I mean… Once the bomb is ready, there won’t be time to dilly-dally with teary  _ adieux _ , you know.”

“I should, yes,” Rose murmured softly, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, Kuss”

“Uh, quick reminder, I’m trying to save my ass here, not yours. Just saying.”

“I know. Come to me when you’re ready, yeah?”

  
  


Kuss simply shrugged and rolled his long sleeves up to his elbows, revealing dark green arms that were just as thin as Rose had expected them to be. She took a second to gather her strength, both mental and physical, and left the workshop without a look back. If she had learnt something along all the adventures she had lived with the Doctor, it was that a desperate villain would do anything to save themselves. She didn’t trust that alien in the least, but she trusted his motivations. That would have to be enough.

 

She groped her way to the little room where she knew the Doctor was, leaning heavily against the wall so she wouldn't stumble down onto the hard grating. Her heart flew to her throat when she saw him, still unable to cope with the sight of a Doctor on the brink of death. He was so pale he almost looked translucent under the bright neon light, his greenish veins drawing a messy maze under his skin. If she focused long enough on one of them, she could almost see it pulse with the weak echo of his slow, stuttering heartbeat. His nose and his ears must have bled at some point, given the dark tracks dried over his cheeks and the red dew straining the plastic of the mask. His breath was ragged, uneven, it sounded like each intake of breath was just like an old sputtering hoover on the verge of breaking down. 

 

She splayed her hand over the glass case protecting him from the outside, keeping him tightly locked into a coma that was buying him some precious time - minutes, Rose thought, just mere minutes. She wished she could hear his voice again, either in her ears or in her mind, just a whisper of her name or a murmur of love. She tentatively reached out with her mind, like he had taught her to do, but she only met a tall wall of ice and a harsh blizzard of nothing. Silence. Only silence. She’d never been good at handling silence.

  
  


“I did it, Doctor,” she whispered, running her fingers over the glass as if she could pretend she was touching his face. “I got the capsules. Kuss is making a bomb so we can blow the Prophets up. It won’t be long now, so just hand tight, yeah?”

  
  


She didn’t expect an answer, but she couldn’t help watching out for any sign that he might have heard her, nor could she help the disappointment and sorrow that brought tears to her eyes when he didn’t react. Seeing him like that made her realize that there was no turning back. The odds weren’t in their favor, their plan had very little chance of working, and even if it did, the Doctor might already be too far gone. She knew some things weren’t meant to be fixed, some things couldn’t be repaired, some things could never get better. If it worked, he would get all the life he’d lost back, but at what cost? Rose feared he wouldn’t be the same, that everything that made the Doctor who he was was lost forever, that what had been stolen from him would never be found again. Never before had she felt like this could be one very last adventure. Less than one hour. An hour, and only two possible outcomes. Death or life. And without the Doctor’s help, she feared the scale was tipping to the wrong side of the realm of possibilities. 

  
  


“You should have told me sooner,” Rose lamented in a quiet whisper, letting her body slide against the pod to sit on the grating. “See what good it does to keep secrets. You’re almost dead, I’m stuck with two alien criminals, and I’m about to go on a suicide mission. I don’t really blame you. I just wish… I was enough. But I can never be enough for you, can I? I feel like… I don’t know. You can’t trust me, you can’t confide in me, you can’t be honest with me. Maybe that’s because you can’t really see me as anything else but a stupid ape, after all. What were you scared of to keep that away from me? That I’d be angry, or sad, or disappointed in you? That’s I’d be too much of an idiot to understand? Well, guess what. I’m all of that right now and I can’t even take it out on you. I’m furious, heartbroken and disgusted. And I feel like a bloody idiot for not seeing any of this sooner. I hope you’re happy to be right again, bloody stubborn smartass.”

  
  


She took a deep breath and immediately regretted it when her lungs burnt and a rough string of coughs made renewed tears spring from her eyes. It didn’t last long, just long enough to see a tiny orangish cloud escape her lips and vanish into the air after a few seconds. Her heart stuttered in her chest and her stomach churned violently at the sight. She had seen this before. The day her first Doctor had regenerated into the body that was dying in that very room. She suddenly remembered the what had happened on Gallifrey, when a capsule had shattered on the floor and she had inhaled the life energy by accident. She quickly fumbled to take off her jumper and slipped a hand under her tee-shirt to search for the bullet wound she knew was supposed to be there. She only found soft, smooth skin.

 

_ You started shooting flames out of your hands _ . Those words had the images of the Doctor’s regeneration reeled before her eyes and terror slyly seeped into her veins. Unable to shake off the alarming feeling that plundered her brain, her fingers flew to her face to map its contours while her eyes took in every part of her body at once. Same legs, same arms, same face. And yet, she felt different. There was something else beyond the pain. The awkward feeling that her muscles were heavier, that her lungs were bigger, that her eyes saw better, that her heart beat faster. Things she hadn’t been aware of until she’d started paying attention to them. But it was impossible. She was human. Just human.

  
  


“Ridiculous,” she chastised herself, scrambling back to her feet with great difficulty. “If this can kill the Prophets, I’d be dead already. I just healed faster. Yeah, just healed faster.”

  
  


She wiped her tears with the back of her sleeve when she heard the sound of steps approaching, and Kuss appeared on the doorstep with a device covered in wires.

  
  


“Time to go,” he said - and those words sounded much too like a death sentence in her ears.

  
  


She barely nodded, bent over the glass case of the pod to press a kiss just above the Doctor’s head, and blew out a heavy breath.

  
  


“See you later, Doctor,” she murmured - whatever happened, they’d meet again soon, either alive in the Tardis, or dead somewhere in the Heavens above. “I love you.”

  
  


She took one last look at his face, hoping it would give her the strength and the courage for what was coming. Oddly, it only soothed her nerves and turned her fears into soft resolve. She felt at peace. She knew she had done everything she could to try and save him, and no matter what happened, she knew that fate would be the only one to decide. There was nothing more in the palm of her hands than hope and prayers - which wouldn’t weigh much on the fragile thread that was their future. 

 

Rose addressed Kuss a weak smile as she walked past him, going back to the console room with as much confidence as she could muster on her shaky legs.

  
  


“So, how do we do it?” she asked to the pair of aliens that had followed in her steps.

“The bomb needs to be set off manually,” Kuss explained, shoving the device into her hands before pointing at a green switch on the side. “We’re counting on the surprise effect, here. You’re just gonna run in the middle of their little assembly, activate the bomb and run back to the ship. You’ll have ten seconds, which should be long enough for you to come back, quick enough that they won’t understand what’s happening. We’re kinda counting on the Tardis to use a parallel route they won’t be able to foresee, but that’s a hazardous parameter.”

“The Tardis knows what she’s doing,” Rose guaranteed them when the ship comforted her insecurities with a wave of reassurance.

“Okay, then. We should do it now. Remember, ten seconds. Better hope your ship doesn’t land too far from them.”

“Good luck, human,” Fizz offered with a pat on her shoulder. “Hate to say it, but you’re our last chance.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

  
  


Rose readjusted her grip on the bomb, made sure her thumb was secured above the switch and that the sleeve of her jumper wouldn’t get stuck in any part of the device - any little detail that could go wrong imperilled her mission and she wasn’t about to let something as trivial as a sleeve or an untied shoelace kill all of them. Her legs were still weak, her muscles still aching, her head still tightly locked into a painful grip, but it was nothing considering what was at stake. So, she silently asked the Tardis to go, and she walked to the door with one last thought aimed at the Doctor.  _ Please, let him live _ .

 

Her heartbeat soared  as the time rotor whirred to life, its sound heavier and somehow more solemn than it had ever sounded. No turning back. That was it. The grating shook under her feet and the coral struts trembled, the railing squeaked and the door vibrated, until the ship landed with its characteristic bang. Rose blinked her tears off her eyes, kept the sobs she felt coming clinched away in the back of her throat and readied her feet. And then the door opened.

 

It took her less than a second to analyse where the Tardis had landed, where the Prophets were standing, where she needed to go to activate her bomb. Before she could fully understand, she broke into a fast run to the middle of the cavern, to the center of the circle drawn by the many silhouettes clad in deep emerald robes, hidden away under large hoods falling over their faces. They all quickly turned to look at her, but the surprise had worked. She had just enough time to flick the switch on, drop the makeshift bomb to the ground and turn on her heels to take off in the opposite direction. 

 

And then her eyes feel on the Tardis door. On Kuss and Fizz, who were standing on the doorstep. On his hand that was gripping the edge of the door. On his shoulders that went up and down. A shrug. On his mouth that drew into a thin line. A smirk. 

 

Rose shouted to the top of her lungs when she saw the door close, just a few feet in front of her. But the panic didn’t last. The ten seconds were over. One moment, she was running towards the Tardis, her heart wrestling to break through her ribcage and her mind screaming at the ship to give her a chance. The next, she was swept off of her feet under the force of the explosion, her whole body was thrown into the pit of a roaring brazier, slammed against the ship, and fell down on the dusty ground. 

 

Rose stared at the dirtied blue paint of the bottom of the door. A bubble of blood bust at the corner of her lips. Her nails weakly scraped against a rock. She breathed in a gasp full of soot and sand. Her eyelids closed over her tears and one last thought found its way through the fuzz of her mind.  _ Please, let him live _ .

 

* * *

 


	17. Chapter 17

* * *

 

He had always hated regenerating. There was the pain, how his muscles and bones either stretched or shortened, depending on the height of his new body - a difficult process that made every single cell in his corporal envelope burn and sear. How his mind struggled to find its way back in that small part of his brain - he had never told anybody about this complex aspect, the fact that his mind had to leave his body to avoid being damaged, and the fact that it had to be healthy enough to properly move to its new home. It was dodgy, extremely dangerous and because physical pain wasn’t enough, the headache that followed its reinsertion could be compared to a maul repeatedly hammering against his skull, piercing a hole in his virgin brain and clawing to dig its cradle. But he could deal with that kind of pain. Not pleasant, but he could deal with it.

 

What he more often than not couldn't deal with was the change a regeneration implied. A new body. Always tricky to get a body he liked - he had to focus hard on a blurry picture of what he hoped to become, which was a feat he had never been quite capable of. Proof was this body - the lanky frame, the odd, wonky features, the lack of anything remotely handsome or attractive. He’d tried. He’d been thinking about an image of what made a man appealing to humans, just so Rose would like him - or at the very least, like to look at him. The masterpiece of cubism he had turned into was definitely not what he had imagined, or even hoped for. But Rose still liked it, even if she rarely voiced it. That probably had to do with the fact that she wasn’t shallow enough to let a slanted nose or a bulgy eye influence her feelings. One more thing he loved about her. Well, he loved everything about her, really, and he couldn’t help marvel at her perfection. 

 

And then, there was the change of character. He was rather pleased with this one, and it actually was the only thing he’d had enough control over to shape it into a personality Rose would like. His previous incarnation had been a little raw, probably too serious and too somber, and he’d had trouble showing how he really felt - smiling had been hard and painful, and he’d only done it on rare and significant occurrences. This current character was much more bubbly, more fun, and he smiled so much more his cheeks had hurt for a few weeks until he had gotten used to it. But the discomfort was a very small price to pay. To see and to hear Rose laugh at his silly grinning face always filled him with the kind of warm joy and wild excitement he hadn’t experienced in a long, very long time. And to make it all even better, this body was a hugger and his mind was always starving to hold her close, and Rose was always more than willing to indulge those craving needs. All things considered, he did love this incarnation, because Rose loved it too. And he refused to regenerate.

 

He couldn’t remember why life energy was dancing around his body, or why his cells were blazing, or why his mind was floating above his head, waiting to return to safety - and that was probably why his memory was in a jumble.  _ I will not regenerate _ . That was the only thought he could hear and he used it as an anchor, to fight off the waves of powerful energy that swept across his weak carcass, to hold back the urge his muscles and organs had to metamorphose, to try and tug on the tendrils of his soul to rein it in. Regenerations hurt. Struggling against one hurt even more. 

 

It was a long fight. He couldn’t be quite sure how long it lasted, but he had the odd feeling time was expending, seconds turning to minutes, minutes to hours, and he didn’t know if he’d be able to resist this agony until the danger went away. The thread he was holding on to, that one promise, was wearing thin, so thin he felt it ready to snap. But then, the excruciating pain started to soften into a dull ache, warmth spreading through his limbs faster than a wildfire into a gale, turning into a searing wave of heat, and he thought he had lost. He could imagine the flames of energy shooting from his extremities with dreadful accuracy and that one thought, _ I will not regenerate _ , turned to dead ashes, replaced by the name he could only hope would bring about salvation.  _ Rose _ .

 

Slowly, he started to regain control of his limbs - just a twitch of a finger, a quiver of his lips, a shudder down his spine, each a painful reminder of what his body was going through, but each a blessed testimony of life. Oh yes, he was alive. The wonderful relief he felt probably meant he had been a breadth away from death, but he’d have to wait for his mind to click back into place and his memories to come back to confirm it. Ha, there it was. He heard more than felt the sharp, ragged intake of air his painful lungs breathed in, tasted the coppery tang of blood on his tongue, smelled its rancid, stomach-churning fragrance invade his nostrils, felt the hard, cold metal he was lying on. Little by little, his senses were coming back. So was his mind.

 

His brain throbbed violently against his skull and a weak moan rose in his throat, the flaring headache worse than anything he’d ever experienced. His steadily growing sensibility to what was happening to him made him regretfully aware of the rising pain in his right leg, of the prickling numbness of his arm, of the sting in his eyes that caused little dots of light to float behind his eyelids. The ache crescendoed along with the acute perception of his feelings, both mental and physical, until his soul finally welded back with the back of his brain and linked everything back together. 

 

A scream tore through his lungs and tears sprung for his eyes that shot open. He almost suffocated, because of his nose trapped into that blood-stained mask, but mostly because of the deluge of memories that flooded his senses, drowning them into guilt, terror, sorrow, more pain and more distress. His shaky fingers went to fumble with the mask and rip it away from his face so he could breathe as decently as his shrunken lungs would allow. His next priority was to get out of the pod and take off the splint that was now useless and still kept sending powerful jolts of electricity into his nerves - the once dead limb was very much alive and his muscles and tendons screamed in protest at the overstimulation. He smashed his fist against the button and rolled to the side as soon as the glass case started to open, not waiting for it to completely unseal him to crash down on the hard grating of his ship. His trembling hands went to the straps around his knee to untie them and, all while wiping his nose dripping with tears and dried blood, pressed the button for the needles to retract. He scrambled back to his feet and shoved the abominable device down his leg, threw it against the wall - a furious move that had him wobble on his weak legs for a few seconds, and he had to reach back to the pod not to stumble down again.

  
  


“Rose,” he sobbed between two uneven, burning breaths. “Rose, where are you, Rose, please.”

  
  


He remembered everything, but he could only focus on that particular memory that escaped the tornado of information that made his hearts hammer against his ribcage. The last time he’d talked to her, through the feeble telepathic link he had managed to induce despite his miserable state, when she’d gone to Gallifrey to steal the ancient Life Capsules from the Academy. He was alive. She had done it. She had brought the Capsules back and used them to kill the Prophets. He should have been thrilled to be alive, proud of his Rose for killing the most dangerous species that had ever been heard of. But he could only feel insidious panic and heart-wrenching horror. Because he couldn’t sense her in the Tardis. She wasn’t there. And his ship, her sad hum vibrating through his body as he wobbled towards the console room with difficulty, didn’t make it any better. Something had gone wrong.

 

When he rushed into the console room, his eyes immediately zeroed on the two figures that were bent over one of the panel, fiddling with buttons and pulling levers.

  
  


“Where’s Rose?” the Doctor asked, his question a feverish shout. “What happened?”

  
  


The aliens twirled on their feet to face him, fear painted all over their features, and the way they suspiciously tried to grope their way away from him had the Doctor order his ship to trap them into an energy field. The siblings looked at each other with eyes that spoke so much louder than words, and the Doctor felt fury steadily growing in the pit of his stomach.

  
  


“Where is Rose?” he repeated - and it seemed his quiet tone scared them even more.

“We had no choice,” Fizz shook her head, reaching out with a hand but drawing it back with a hiss when her skin burnt against the field. “The bomb would have exploded before she could come back. We had to leave her behind. We had to close the ship, or we’d all be dead.”

“You…” the Doctor started, an impressive vein swelling on his temple and tears of rage rolling down his cheeks. “You left her behind. You… Left her to die?”

“There was no other way, Doctor,” Kuss added with a shrug, seemingly less worried by the whole situation than his sister. “She saved you, that’s what we all wanted, isn’t it?”

“You left Rose Tyler to die,” the Doctor stated, a wince spreading over his features as if the words didn’t feel quite right on his tongue. “You, worthless, disgusting worms, left Rose Tyler to die.”

“Yeah, we did, so what? It was one stupid human or all of us. We made the right choice. Now, bring us back to Vendea.”

“Oh, I’ll bring you back,” the Doctor calmly nodded, even offering them a small smile as he went to flick a switch on the console. “I’m sure I’ll find someone interested in body parts.”

“Doctor, that’s not what Rose…”

  
  


Fizz gasped when she understood it hadn’t been a reasonable idea to use the human woman as an argument. That name acted like a detonator, and she was powerless. The Doctor strode towards her and reached into the field to clench his fingers around her throat, so tight her face went from pale green to an almost navy blue within mere seconds. She vainly attempted to claw her nails into the skin of his hand but her strength was somehow being drained by his touch. The Doctor knew he needed to stop if he didn’t want to kill her, but reason and rational thoughts had been swallowed by tremendous folly at the mention of that name. He almost smirked when he saw drops of orange blood starting to spill from the two slits of her nose and her eyes turning dark yellow as the tiny blood vessels started to burst. Kuss could only watch his sister agonize in the hand of the Doctor, both too terrified to protest and clever enough not to risk suffering the same fate. 

 

The Doctor eventually released her and stared at her, his brow knitted in a hard grimace of anger.

  
  


“Say her name,” he ordered, looking down at her when she fell into a small trembling heap on the grating. “Go on, say her name again. I just need one reason to kill you, give it to me.”

“Doctor…” Kuss started as the Doctor cracked his knuckles and stomped on her hand, crushing her bones with his heel.

“Shut up,” the Doctor barked, his eyes having turned so black and menacing their warm chocolate colour might never come back again. “If you say her name again, or even mention her, even  _ think  _ about her… Trust me, you’ll wish you’d taken her place and died already. Now shut the fuck up. Shut the bloody fuck up. One word, one cough, one loud breath and I’ll kill you. Try me. I want nothing more for you to try me.”

  
  


He almost wished for an answer, for an excuse to steal the life of these two wretches that had dared let his precious Rose die along with the Prophets, for one reason to unleash the obsessive and consuming need he felt to avenge her death. But he knew that killing them would only leave him with a sorrow too heavy and a misery too intense to survive. Them, alive, was the only thing that could keep him away from dangerous thoughts. Focusing on his incensed rage was the only thing his own life was hanging on. When he was sure they’d keep quiet, he went back to the console and leaned against the panel without touching anything, just silently asking the Tardis to bring him to Rose. 

 

His ship took a moment to try and soothe his pain, but nothing and no one in this cursed universe would ever offer any comfort again. So, the time rotor slowly set into motion, a tired and torpid breath echoing through the console room instead of its usual loud wheeze. The ride was smooth, short, and the Doctor released a controlled breath just as the ship landed. He didn’t want to go, but he was sure too much hesitation would only make it harder. He fiercely ignored the desperate looks the pathetic pair of aliens gave him as he made his way towards the door with an outwards resolution he most definitely didn’t feel inside. His hand lingered on the handle a few seconds, and with one last, rough intake of breath, he pulled the door open. 

 

Nothing could have prepared him for the desolate sight that greeted him, and he had to blink several times to chase the unwelcome memories of the Time War that flashed before his eyes. He also had to bury his nose in the crook of his elbow to avoid smelling the acrid stench of burnt flesh and inhaling the heavy white vapours lazily floating around the cavern, unable to dissipate in such an enclosed environment. His stomach churned violently when he took a timid step outside his ship and tripped over a rock - at he thought it was a rock, at first, until he looked down and realized it was an arm. He spotted the remnants of the bomb in the middle of the hollowed ground, melted wires, shards of glass and metallic parts scattered around the epicenter of the explosion that must have been formidable given the size of the burn on the earth. And then, there were the bodies - or what was left of them anyway. Some were still intact, some other had turned into charred and still fuming carcasses, some others had been torn to pieces, arms and legs and heads creating a canvas so grim even Death itself couldn’t have made it look more austere. What little lucidity was left in his brain took a second to count the heads and make sure there were thirteen of them. He counted fourteen.

 

His hearts stopped in his chest when his eyes finally fell on a tuft of peroxided blond hair on the other side of the cavern. He started to walk, slowly at first, taking in the small lump of clothes and limbs she was from the distance, and before he knew it his legs burst into a fast, hasty, brisk run. The closer he got, the more tears fell from his eyes, until his mouth parted under the deep whimpers and broken sobs that rose in his throat. He fell on his knees next to her - he refused to call her a body, because that would determine she was… He simply refused to call her a body until he had checked, double-checked, made absolutely sure she was. 

  
  


“Oh, Rose,” he sobbed loudly, the sound of his cries echoing into a sinister melody against the hard rock of the cavern.

  
  


His eyes, coated with a thick layer of tears, took in to the smallest details despite his heaving stomach and the bile rising in his throat. The hair at the back of her head was gone, melted, showing a patch of pale skin covered in large blisters. Her forehead had frozen into a frown of pain, of agony, of panic, he didn’t want to know, but what he knew with certainty was that this expression would break his hearts if he looked at it for more than a second. He tried to remember her smile, to see those plump lips drawn into one of her grins, to picture her deep-whiskey eyes shining with that gleam of joy he loved. He couldn’t. He feared this repugnant picture would be the only one he’d ever remember. Her jumper, grey wool, had been reduced to tatters by the heat and the force of the explosion, broken meshes sticking to the scorched skin still glowing with the viscid blood, too abundant to have properly dried yet. Blood. So much blood. So much scraped and bruised and mutilated skin. So much pain written, etched into her fragile human body with the kind of ink he could never erase.

 

Gently, as reverently as he could with his hands jolting with spasms, he tugged on her shoulder and her waist to turn her around. He forcefully bit his tongue when her body - her  _ body  _ \- rolled effortlessly to the side and her head lolled on the dirt. He cupped her cheek in the crook of his palm, brushed his thumb against her cold, pale lower lip, brushed a strand of blood-stained hair that had stuck to her eyelashes away from her face. He could have pretended she was sleeping, if he didn’t know her so well. In her sleep, Rose mumbled loudly, sometimes snored, always shuffled around to steal the covers from him or snuggle closer to him, rolled around, then around again, kicked the duvet when she was too hot, complained when she was too cold, mumbled some more. In many aspects, she was even more restless in her sleep than she was awake. The Rose that was lying down on the dirt wasn’t sleeping. She was dead.

 

The silent and painful admission had him forcefully close his eyes and his shoulders shake madly with renewed sobs. He sat next cross-legged next to her and drew her lifeless form into a tight hug, pressing his lips on the top of her head that loosely slumped forward.

  
  


“I’m sorry,” he choked up on a broken moan, rocking her softly against his chest, the only heat he could feel the warm flood of blood still seeping from her wounds. “I’m so sorry, my love, I’m so very sorry. Please, please never forgive me.”

  
  


When it became too difficult to compose meaningful words, he simply let the sorrow wash over him and dissolved into tears. Soluble prayers fell from his eyes along the salty water even though he knew no God could ever bring her back, time seemed to get stuck in a sickening roller coaster loop, rising as high as hate and dropping as low as guilt, a quick succession of feeling only made worse by the pain in his arms. He was still weak, and searing shame coursed through him at the thought that he’d found enough strength to threaten that vile cockroach and dared to believe he was too feeble to hold the love of his life. He hadn’t been enough for her in life, he couldn’t even be enough for her in death. No. He had to find enough strength. She deserved his respect, his care, his love, even if he was unworthy of ever feeling such things for her.

 

The Doctor pressed only last kiss on the apple of her icy cheek and gathered her body against him, slipping an arm under the crook her knees and tightly wrapping the other around her shoulders. He groaned through a sob as he struggled to get back to his feet, ignoring the sticky heat that coated his fingers and made his hold slippery. Might as well die just now if he couldn’t keep her body safe. The lack of tension in her muscles made her weight awfully heavier, and the tip of his shoes dragged against the dirt at each strenuous step, his knees bending in vulgar remonstrance at the effort it demanded. His watery eyes remained firmly glued on the Tardis door, the only anchor he could focus on to guide his slow progression through the funereal battlefield that had seen a brave tiny human put an end to the misery of millions, him included. After what seemed to be a lethargic eternity, he reached the doors of the Tardis, which went as far as to open the two panels so as not to impede his course - one more proof that even the ship loved this human and wanted to show the utmost reverence she had for her. 

 

The console room was almost deafeningly silent. The ship had shut down all of its unnecessary engines and mechanism, only a faint buzz rising from under the grating and coming from the dim light of the rotor - something the Doctor had trouble seeing as anything else than a heart-wrenching hommage. The aliens, huddled up against the foot of the console, simply watched as he made his way to their bedroom. The Doctor had barely reached the corridor that he froze mid-step when Kuss voice spoke up.

  
  


“Is she really dead?”

  
  


The Doctor didn’t answer and kept going after a short second of hesitation. He knew the Tardis wouldn’t fail him and keep both of these vermins jailed into the energy fields, and he knew just the way to make him pay for disobeying his simple command. Kuss had tried. Kuss had lost.

 

The Doctor entered the spacious bedroom, lifting his eyes to the ceiling with a dejected sigh when he saw a few articles of clothing strewn on the deep red carpet, some of them his, some of them hers, and it brought back a symphony of memories he wished he could drown into. Her laugh, when he had tripped over his own pants and crashed head first against the edge of bed. Her yell, when he had accidentally ruined her favorite tee-shirt by spilling blackberry juice over it. Her blush, when he had slipped his cold hands under that same tee-shirt to apologize with soft touches rather than words. Her smile, and her eyes, gleaming with love and pride, when he had told her for the hundredth time how much she meant to him. How his hearts had soared with devotion and his mind sung with unadulterated happiness. How felicity had  filled his entire body and soul, how pure euphoria had flowed in his veins. Now, he just felt empty. So empty even the tears had stopped. He had lost the ability to feel. Without Rose, he was nothing. A hollow, broken shell.

 

He carefully laid her down on the bed, as if her body might break if he wasn’t gentle enough, and he just as delicately tugged on the sleeves of her tattered jumper to take it off. He unbuckled the belt he had always complained was too complicated to remove and a sketch of a smile ghosted over his lips when he saw the tracks his nails had scratched on the black leather. Memories of love he wished he could forget. He unlaced her soiled sneakers and slipped them off her feet and the phantom sound of her giggle reached his ears - she had always been ticklish and he had often teased her about it. Followed her ruined jeans that he discarded on the side, and he went to the wardrobe. Choosing the right clothes should have mattered, but in that moment, everything he saw made it hard to decide. Each tee-shirt, each pair of trousers, each jumper, each jacket couldn’t be dissociated from all the memories that went with them - an adventure on a spaceship, a romantic escapade on a distant planet, a lazy afternoon in the TV room, a night of passion in the library. So he picked the few things he knew she liked the most.

 

One pair of baggy jeans, a colourful tee-shirt with an ugly unicorn printed on the front, a faded grey sweater. It had always struck him as oddly impressive that she could switch from tight and short dresses with their matching heels to that kind of large, unladylike clothes without ever losing a thread of femininity. Whatever she wore, she always looked beautiful.

 

The Doctor went to the bathroom to wet a towel he used to wipe the traces of dried blood on her face and in her hair, pick up a hairbrush he used to untangle the knots of the strands falling on either side of her head, throw the ruined garments away in a bin. He tried to smooth the wrinkles of her frown with a tender brush of his fingertips against her forehead, but it was useless - death had a peculiar way of mocking those who lived, he thought. So, he simply pressed a quick, light kiss on her temple and squeezed her cold hand between his fingers.

  
  


“I’ll come back for you, my love,” he whispered, placing her hand back loosely over her stomach. “I’ve done the impossible once. I can do it twice. I’ll save you. Whatever it takes.”

  
  


He didn’t look back as he left the bedroom and walked to his little workshop - the sooner he’d set to find a way to bring his Rose back, the better. The small room was still cramed to the brim with items and parts he most likely would never need but he knew what he wanted was there. He climbed onto the workbench and reached behind a pile of knick-knacks heaped on the top cupboard, his fingers groping through the junk until they met a little wooden box engraved with a symbol only he could ever understand. He flicked the tiny locket open and, contrary to what he would have probably done should Rose still be alive, he didn’t hesitate and picked up a single piece from it. 

 

Then, very calmly, he walked back to the console room and his eyes quickly travelled over the grating to find what he was looking for.

  
  


“Ha, there you are,” he murmured as he casually walked to the weapon the Prophet had ripped from Rose’s hands not so long ago. 

  
  


He scooped it up, switched the security off, dismounted the cylinder to empty it of its bullets that rained down and bounced on the grating with screeching clinks. And then, he replaced them with the single bullet he had salvaged in the workshop, smiling at the satisfying click that disrupted the otherwise silent open space when it comfortably nestled in its compartment. He circled the console, trailing his fingers over the cold surface of the different buttons and switches and levers on each panel, counting them under his breath - down, not up, because he perfectly knew how many of them there was until he’d be standing before Kuss. On the sixteenth, the hem of his toga finally came into view. On the eleventh, the Doctor watched him twist around on the grating to stare at him, eyes widened in fear. On the sixth, Kuss started to beg, to plead, the utmost terror he felt at the sight of a Doctor who obviously was about to do something that went against the very meaning of his title roughly painted over his features. On the second, the Doctor’s eyes darkened to two black pits of raw fury and his arms slowly raised to aim the barrel of his gun at the juncture between his neck and shoulder, right where he knew his main artery was.

  
  


“You’ve been warned,” the Doctor shrugged, unfazed by the alien’s despair. “Zero.”

  
  


The sound of the shot was covered by a loud duet of screams, one of horror, one of pain, and the Doctor huffed in annoyance when Kuss’ blood spurted over his hands and the hem of his pinstriped jacket. 

  
  


“Help him,” he barked to Fizz, wiping his dirty fingers on his trousers as he turned towards the console to enter a set of coordinates. “If you stick your fingers inside the wound, he might survive. Maybe. Actually, probably not, but eh, you can try. I’ll be dropping you off, now.”

  
  


The Doctor remained deaf to the loud whimpers of pain and the heavy sobs coming from their cuddled and trembling figures, only tutting loudly when he judged the noise too disrupting. He wasn’t about to feel compassion or pity for the ones responsible of  _ her  _ death, and he kicked one of them away when a set of fingers clung to the bottom of his trousers. The time rotor wheezed back to life and he bent down to grasp the both of them by their hoods, forcefully tugging up to make them scramble to their feet. Kuss was barely able to stand straight, his cries having dwindled down to quiet moans and his energy flowing out of him as fast as the heavy stream of blood from the injury, shredded skin and muscle. And just in case this wouldn’t have been enough, the Doctor had picked the one Gallifreyan bullet that released a poison in the bloodstream on impact - his people had always been good at devising deadly weapons despite their supposed benevolence. 

 

He shoved them towards the door, pushing his knees in the small of their backs if they weren’t fast enough, and when they were out, he shouldered his way between them and briskly walked to the counter. 

  
  


“Brought you Fizz back,” he told the raven-like receptionist of the Huxley jail. “And her brother, call it compensation for what happened last time.”

  
  


He turned back on his heels before the receptionist, too startled by the sudden apparition to fully understand what was happening, could argue and offered a dark, almost sadistic smile to the siblings sitting in a steadily growing pool of blood.

  
  


“Enjoy your stay,” he spat, dropping his empty gun at their feet in one last move dripping with scorn, a poor metaphor for their inability to do anything that could save them.

“We’ll meet again in Hell, Doctor,” Fizz seethed, following his steps back to his ship, teary eyes overflowed with hate.

“Can’t wait for that to happen,” he shrugged as he stepped inside the Tardis. “Have fun.”

  
  


He slammed the door shut behind him, and the Tardis didn’t wait for his consent to take off and leave the prison dreaded by all, from which none could escape. Just as he was about to go back to his bedroom to offer his precious Rose one last goodbye before he’d start looking for a way to save her life, his eyes fell on a tiny glass ball filled with a vaporous yellowish glow. A Capsule. It must have fallen from one of their pockets at some point, he believed - not only murderer, but thieves, too. He carefully picked it up, as the glass surface was cracked and threatened to break into pieces. With a gentle, measured movement, he nestled it into an embroidered handkerchief he always kept in his transdimensional pocket and covered it with a glove that must have been sleeping there for a few centuries.

 

The Doctor quietly asked his ship, his friend, to clean the bloody mess trailing from the console to the door, and gave the console a tender brush of his fingers.

  
  


“Hello again, old girl,” he whispered softly, embracing the pulsing light of the time rotor with a compassionate look. “We have a lot on our hands. I hope you’re up for it.”

  
  


The Tardis enveloped his mind in a tight blanket of reassurance and hummed encouragely, her song vibrating in his ribcage and making hope flare somewhere between his two hearts. He didn’t know why suddenly he felt like everything would be alright, like he would wake from this horrible nightmare and, better than his most daring of expectations, he would get to live the life he had always dreamt of. The surface of his mind was perturbed by tiny rivulets of time flow, like gentle wave lapping at a shot of warm, white sand, and drew an image that brought a smile to his lips and renewed tears to his red and swollen eyes. One fleeting picture the Tardis gifted him with despite the strict rules that forbade her to share anything from his future, just a scene, a second from a slice of life, but that was so powerful and meaningful it remained etched in front of him for almost a whole minute. His beautiful Rose, very much alive, cuddled on his side, an arm loosely tucked around his waist, the smell of her hair the sweetest of fragrances as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Their bedroom, in the Tardis, their bed, the same bed they had now, but with that one element next to it that made his hearts burst in pride and his brain swim in an intoxicating cocktail of sheer joy and warm love. His Gallifreyan cot. And there, safely nestled between their bodies, a little baby with a tuft of blond hair, quietly sucking on a dummy - yes,  _ her _ , if the fluffy pink ensemble she was buried in was any indication.

 

Lightheaded, the Doctor had to brace himself against the console, letting whatever tears he could still muster freely drip onto the back of his hands. He had a future with Rose. Remained to find out what route to take to get there. 

 

_ Doctor _ , _ I’m scared _ . His head shot up in fear and worry, so fast his weakened body teetered for a few moments, and it took his just a second longer to realize it was her voice. Rose. Rose was scared. But if Rose was scared, that meant she wasn’t dead. Both his hearts flew to his throat and the muscles in his legs wailed when he broke into a run, rushing towards their bedroom with that one, surreal and exhilarating thought crawling all over his skull.  _ Rose is alive. _  
  
  


* * *

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I started posting this last year. In April. So, a year later, here is the last chapter.  
> I would like to remind you that this was supposed to be a one-shot.
> 
> It feels really weird to know I'm done with this one - well, darn it, I'll probably write an epilogue, and maybe a bunch of other chapters because my heart doesn't want to let this story go, but technically...  
> THIS IS THE END
> 
> Voilà.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy it, I hope you enjoyed it all, I'd be happy yo hear what you think of the whole thing so don't hesitate to give me your thoughts and critics.  
> MASSIVE THANKS to all of you, my dear readers, for putting up with me and my awkward writing phases, for all the amazing comments, for all the kind kudos - and I'll give special thanks to some people in the epilogue, because you deserve it so much).
> 
> Anyway. Here are the 7,000 woord chapter that concludes this journey. Enjoy your reading! :-)

* * *

 

 

The Doctor burst into the room so fast he almost slipped on the carpet and tripped over a lone shoe that had the misfortune of lying sideways in his path, but he quickly regained his balance and crashed down on his knees next to her. She still looked so drained of life, pale face, pale hands, unmoving, not breathing, that he wondered with a harsh pang in his guts if he simply hadn’t dreamt that voice. He pressed his fingers over her cold forehead, tried to find a pulse  - they were sensitive enough to feel a discordance in a breath of air provoked by a flutter a butterfly wings, surely he would feel it if her tiny human heart was beating, but apart from the slowly fading tension in the muscle, there was not a single sign of life. 

 

_ Doctor, I’m so scared _ . 

 

Both his hearts missed another beat or two, and his hand flew away from her skin as if it had been burnt by a roaring brazier. Rose was human. Just human. And dead. There was no way her mind could speak so clearly into his, no way she could make him emotions so pure and feelings so acute his body physically reacted with even more intensity than if he was the one feeling them. He had taught her how to communicate with him through weak telepathic waves, but the result had been very far from convincing. A few shallow thoughts he could barely translate, little flickers of love and joy, merely a comforting presence at the back of his head, just enough to already push her telepathic abilities to their limits. This couldn’t happen. This had to be a delusional figment of his imagination, a vicious trick of the mind answering his pleas that burgonned in the corner of his brain he had no real power over.

 

_ Please, Doctor, where are you _ ?

 

The words came with a harsh tug of fear hooking his stomach and trying to pull it out of his abdomen, so vile he didn’t know if it was his or hers. But there was no doubt left. It was her. He trailed his fingertips up her jaw, over her cheek, to settle with a feathery touch on her cold temple. It shouldn’t have worked, because touch telepathy implied signals coursing through nerves and flesh, sparks of energy buzzing at the contact of skin, the connection between them only flaring to life thanks to his faculties that coaxed her own. It shouldn’t have worked, because there was no lingering faculties to awaken. But as soon as he started reaching out with a few, thin tendrils of his mind in the life-deprived air around her body, his brain throbbed tediously against his skull and he was drawn into her soul faster than he would have through the time vortex. 

 

He barely felt his physical body slump down and the back of his head hit the corner of the bedside table, but he definitely felt the edges of his mind fray and blaze and melt into hers. The most powerful form of telepathy even Gallifreyans themselves rarely encouraged, the kind of connection that made whoever experienced it cease to exist in the material world and gorge on pure thoughts, dreams and mental images. The dangerous kind of connection that could lead people to forget about who they were, to lose sight of reality and slowly succumb to their fantasies. Insanity or death. Those were the only two possible fates he had ever heard of when it came to the perilous act of  _ melding _ . That was why he tried to resist it, struggling against the pull, fighting off the claws of her psyche clinging to his consciousness. She was too powerful, and more than the prospect of losing his mind, it was her strength and her influence subjugating him that terrified him. This couldn’t happen, and yet it was. She was just human, but in that moment, she wasn’t.

 

He fell down on his knees in cold, humid sand and his lungs painfully expended, inhaling a sharp breath of salty wind that whipped his skin and blew through his hair. This was bad. He could see the millions of little sand particles under him, he could hear the rough breeze whizzing into his ears, he could smell the strong scent of the ocean waves crashing over the shore. This was all too real. And because all of it was merely a thought, a perception created by what their minds were sharing, that made it all the easier to see it as something it wasn’t. Reality. He would have to be very cautious, try to remember why he couldn’t stay, count on the strength of his own conscience to bring him back safely aboard the Tardis where he knew his body was already starting to give up. 

 

He focused on that conviction he had that he needed to leave this place - no, not this place, merely this memory, and he scrambled back to his feet, fingers pushing against sand - no, merely facsimile of sand, and brushed the humid particles off his palms against his trousers. This wasn’t real, it wasn’t, he needed to go, he needed to escape the delusion, he needed to flee her and the prison of her mind. But then he saw her. 

 

Curled up, knees brought up to her chest, head nestled against her breast and shielded with her arms, shoulders shaken with the soft sobs of someone who’d spent far too long crying, and was far too tired and had to let the remnants of sorrow ripple over their body. The Doctor watched her trembling frame and finally noticed she was cold. Positively freezing. Her fingers were blue, her face had turned milky white apart from the deep purple hue of her lips and the glowing red of the tip of her nose. Snowflakes seemed to be hanging from her eyes lashes, her blond locks were imprisoned in a thin layer of ice, her clothes were all coated with a sheet of frozen powder. White, irregular tracks were painted all over her cheeks, remnants of tears that had dried on her scorched skin. It wasn’t that cold, and he realized this was just a consequence of having spent far too long in the solitude of her mind that was slowly dying, having no physical body to return to. He forgot, hopefully momentarily, that he couldn’t stay.

 

He wanted to run towards her, but in the heavy, thick atmosphere that surrounded his ghost of a body, he felt like slicing through a stifling fog on the Moon. The sound of his steps assailed his ears in a quick succession of sounds of wet sand squishing under his chucks but fell silent before he was half-way through his first step. His senses were distorted, the link between what he was feeling wearing thin like spider silk twisting, tangling, breaking under the grasp of too rough a breeze, their meaning getting lost in a maze of awkward perceptions. He felt the rain on the bare skin of his hands, but he couldn’t see it. He heard the wind whistling in his ears, but he couldn’t feel it on his cheeks or in his hair. He saw the sand particles propelled by the tip of his shoe as his foot finally landed, but he could only feel walking on the surface of an air pillow that gave way under his weight. The closer he got to her, the harder it became to distinguish physical feelings, the easier it became to feel her pain, her sorrow, her rage. Getting closer to the swarm of her emotions, the only thing left of her.

 

It might have been an hour, or a day, or a whole week - the mind was a tricky thing when it came to time -  before his fingers finally met the invisible barrier of her psyche and tore a hole in its surface, his whole body following through the breach. Everything went back to normal in a rush of colours and feelings as he dropped to his knees next to her, and he unconsciously ran the back of his hand under his chin to wipe a large drop of water that had gathered there. He ignored his tears, that weren’t really tears anyway, and carefully splayed his fingers over her shoulder to soothe its wild quivering. 

  
  


“Rose,” he murmured, bringing his other hand to cup her cold cheek. “Rose, look at me, love.”

  
  


For a moment, he thought she was too weak to hear his voice, too disoriented to make sense of his words, too lost to realize he was here because she had dragged him into her own mind. She made no move to acknowledge his presence. Her sobs only dwindled down into broken sighs of pain that let tiny clouds of frozen condensation obscure her lips for a second.

  
  


“You're not here,” she mumbled between her chattering teeth. “Not now. Not ever. You abandoned me.”

“Rose, I’m here, I promise,” he insisted, gently slipping an arm under her shoulder to cradle her body against his chest. “See, I’m here.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she started between laboured sobs, her eyelids fluttering to chase some tears she couldn’t cry. “Four years. You… You abandoned me.”

  
  


_ Four years _ . He realized that was the same time she had spent in the parallel universe before he had managed to get her back. And then, he realized he was on a beach he knew all too well despite never having set a solid foot on it before. Bad Wolf Bay. Where he had abandoned her. She must have been more traumatized by this fateful day than he had first believed, if her mind was so set on recreating to the smallest detail and the most accurate picture even her eyes would have been unable to see. It pained him to no end that she had had to wait and die to share that part of her, that part that resented him and accused him and hated him, and while he knew there couldn’t have been any other way to get back to her sooner, he still wished he had been faster. He watched her, a frown of sorrow taking possession of his features, to the last crinkle in the corner of his eyes that dug deeper, and the tears she was unable to shed rolled down his own cheeks. In so many ways, he had failed her. And that reminded him just how much he needed to be there for her in that moment.

  
  


“I’m so sorry, Rose,” he started, voice strained so much it came out high-pitched and broken. “I’m so sorry my love. But I’m here, now. I’m begging you, look at me.”

“Will you disappear again?” she asked in a murmur, shifting in his arms as if she was struggling between the desire to look up and the need to free herself. “You always do. You always talk to me. In my head. _ I’m here, Rose. I’m back _ . And when I try to look at you, you’re never there.”

“I’m really here, Rose, I promise”, he insisted, his begging turning into urgent supplication. “Please, my love, just… Just look at me. We don’t have much time. I need to save you, love, please, let me save you. Look at me, Rose.”

  
  


He desperately needed her to look at him so he could stare into her soul and connect their minds. If she didn’t, he would only remain a mere spectator of her consciousness, a foreign entity wandering in the storm of her tormented thoughts. He needed her to welcome him in the depth of her feelings so he could show her all the things this Rose didn’t know yet, all the things he had done to get her back - all those things that would never be enough to earn her forgiveness, because she was right. He had abandoned her. The moment he had refused her help with the treacherous desire to save her had caused all of this. If he hadn’t betrayed her and put that dimensional teleport around her neck to send her to the parallel universe, maybe none of this would have happened. If he had accepted her decision to stay, she wouldn’t have gathered so much void particles and maybe, just maybe, she could have resisted the centripetal tempest of the tear. Maybe he could have saved the both of them, instead of dooming them to a certain death. But he hadn’t. He had abandoned her.

 

The Doctor needed Rose to trust him. This Rose didn’t. The weight of his betrayal was so heavy it had killed her once already. He refused to let it kill her twice. He forcefully grabbed her shoulders and made her spin around on his lap, hands coming to clasp around her cold cheeks and shake her head in a frenzied hope to draw her out of her apathetic lethargy. 

  
  


“Look at me!” he roared through his tears, his hands flying to her purple leather jacket so he could yank at it. “Look at me, Rose Tyler, just bloody look at me! LOOK AT ME!”

 

Slowly, very slowly, her eyelashes covered with a thin layer of ice fluttered, and a pair of pale blue eyes, so pale her pupils looked like two pitch black bottomless pits lost in a continent of snow, finally looked back at him. The connection he expected to flare between them didn’t happen. She simply stared at him like she would have done through a fogged window, and let her head cock to the side in an almost innocent quizzical way.

  
  


“You never said that, before,” she whispered, incomprehension veiling her otherwise emotionless eyes.

“That’s because I’m here, Rose,” the Doctor repeated for what seemed to be one too many time. “I’m here to save you. You brought me here, Rose, I just need you to remember. Let me in. Please, let me in.”

“You’re different,” she pointed out, unaware his patience was wearing thin and that time was slowly but surely running out. “You look.. Older, somehow.”

“I’m more than a hundred and fifty years older than the Doctor you know, Rose,” he explained with every little thread of composure he could muster. “I’m here because you wanted me here. I don’t know how you did it, I don’t know why the Tardis let it happen, but I know this is where I can save you. Your mind, Rose, your mind is what’s going to save you and I need to know how.”

“I can’t be saved,” she shrugged, a mournful chuckle falling from her quivering lips. “Even if I could, do you think I’d want to? To go back to  _ you _ ?“

“You did, Rose,” the Doctor murmured, trying hard not to let her words stab him and wrench his hearts. “I went back for you and you came with me. You found it in you to forgive me. You found it in you to love me again. Just as much as I love you.”

“I can’t believe that,” she said, just a tiny flicker of something akin to doubt lighting in her glassy eyes that gave him hope. “What you did, Doctor… You stole all the feelings I had for you and crushed them. You destroyed me. You seduced me, you made grand promises and made me believe I was worth something to you. And then you took it all away. You put that leash around my neck and kicked me out of your life like a diseased dog without a goodbye. How can I ever love you again?”

“I don’t know how, Rose, but I know you will.”

  
  


The Doctor mumbled a quick prayer under his breath before he reached into one of his pockets, hoping his mind had been strong enough to recreate his suit and all the items it contained. His nostrils flared under the sigh of relief he blew through his nose when his fingers met a small piece of paper. He carefully pulled it out, and a ghost of a smile crossed his lips as he looked at the raspberry juice stained corner, the greasy spot, unfortunate consequence of a sharp fork stab into a grilled sausage, that had made the ink of a few letters melt, and the words written across its surface.  _ Happy one thousand-ish birthday Doctor. Love you.  _ And a little heart drawn under the two lines with a wavy tail that made it look like a balloon.

  
  


“You gave me this three weeks ago, Rose,” he said softly, offering the precious piece of paper he hadn’t left since. “We had breakfast in bed. We laughed. It wasn’t even my birthday, but you said it didn’t matter. I told you I was a thousand, one hundred and fifty-eight years old, but you said  _ -ish _ was much easier to say, and that when you’ve reached a thousand it’s not worth counting any longer anyway. And then, you told me finding me presents is impossible because I can have everything I want. So you just took off your old bathrobe, the pink, fluffy one  _ you  _ should remember. You had this silk negligee, with a bit of lace on the edges. Tardis-made, obviously. The lace was weaved into Gallifreyan patterns. One was  _ sweet _ . One was  _ clever _ . One was  _ witty _ . One was  _ kind _ . One was  _ gentle _ . One was  _ fierce _ . And the one just above your left breast was  _ loving _ . You told me these were all the things that made you love me. Three weeks ago, you made love to me wearing that negligee. You touched me, you smiled at me, you kissed me. You loved me. We were happy. We were perfect, Rose.”

  
  


As he talked, the Doctor watched intently for a reaction. She turned the paper over in her hands, frowned, brushed the pad of her thumb against the words, took a breath that was a tiny bit sharper. He wanted her to trust him. He needed her to trust him, even if in that moment, in that part of her mind, this Rose hated him, despised him, wished he had never come back and silently desired nothing more than for him to disappear. This Rose wouldn’t have tried to save him. He simply hoped she wanted to live enough to save herself. She needed to trust him, but more than that, she needed to trust herself. She needed to see that somewhere, sometime, somehow, Rose Tyler still loved him.

  
  


“I… I wrote this?” she murmured - and the self-addressed question was enough for his hearts to beat faster against his ribcage. 

“You did, love,” he said softly, daring to splay his fingers over the paleness of her cheek. “You will.”

  
  


A shiver coursed through her body, and he knew it had nothing to do with the cold. She handed him the piece of paper back and brought her hands to the collar of her jacket. The Doctor held his breath as her trembling fingers fiddled with the zipper, staring into her eyes he swore were slowly being filled with a faded brown, the colour of a coffee diluted in too much water. He felt her cheek warm up ever so slightly under his fingertips, a light, very light pink hue spreading over her face from where their skin met. A single drop of water dripped from a wet strand of blond hair, the ice steadily melting away, shiny pearls hanging to her eyelashes, rolling down the corner of her eyes. And, with a dishearteningly unhurried pull, she lowered the zipper. His eyes flew to her neck, followed the idle path drawn by the garment splitting in its middle, and his throat bobbed under the heavy, painful gulp of air he swallowed. Lace. Lace, and white silk.

  
  


“How?” Rose asked, obvious confusion written all over her features that were slowly brought back to life.

“Part of you knows,” the Doctor explained with a melancholic smile sketched over his lips. “This is your mind, Rose. You control it. Part of you wanted you to see this.“

“Why?”

“You tell me. You brought me here, Rose. I don’t know how you did it, I don’t know how any of this is even possible, I don’t know what you want me to do. But I trust you to show me, love. Show me why I’m here. Show me what I need to do. Show me how I’m going to save you.”

“How am I supposed to know, Doctor?” she asked, voice so full of discouragement it almost sounded like a rhetorical question.

“Trust me, you know, Rose,” he tried to reassure her, clasping his fingers around her. “You’re brilliant, and you brought me here for a reason. You wanted me to see something, love. Let me in. Show me. Let me in.”

“Promise you won’t disappear again, Doctor?” the question a heartbreaking plea, speaking so eloquently of her lack in faith in him he had to fight a sudden bile rising in his throat.

“I promise I will never, ever disappear again, my love,” he pledged through a barely concealed sob. “Please, Rose. Show me.”

  
  


For a long moment, she did nothing. Barely moved a finger, barely blinked, barely breathed. She just stared at him with the pair of eyes he knew so well, the two bright whiskey orbs he loved to drown into at every given chance, and she observed him like an animal she didn’t know she could trust. Some kind of creature that would scurry away if she made a sound above light ruffle of clothes, or a wild beast that would attack her if she moved too fast. It broke his hearts to understand she was scared of him. Scared, but she also looked… Intrigued. Resolute. Like she wanted to test him. Like she was dying to see if she could tame the monster that had left scars so deep in her mind they would never fade away. Like she was dying to see if the monster she thought he was could really be the man she would love again.

 

And when he did nothing more but look back at her with guilt and sorrow etched into the thinnest crinkle at the corner of his eyes, she brought a now warm little hand to cup his jaw. Just a light, tentative touch at first, that grew firmer when he leaned into her palm and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. It mustn’t have been more than a week since she had touched him in such an intimate way, but it felt like the first time all over again. The heat of her skin, the softness of her fingers, the tenderness of her caress. All those things were overwhelming him completely, but it was nothing compared to the titanic wave of joy that flooded his veins when she fully cradled his face in both of her hands and tilted his head down so she could press her lips against his. It didn’t last, just long enough to remember the taste of her mouth and the sweet way her plump lips yielded under his.

 

When she drew back, a sudden heat swallowed his whole body and a bright orange light glowed behind his closed eyelids, a stark contrast with the cold beach and its cloudy sky. 

  
  


“This matters, Doctor,” Rose whispered in the nook of his ear, her voice much warmer, much clearer, much softer than it had been moments ago - it had a certain eerie vibration flowing along her words, some metallic resonance he was sure he had heard before but was unable to remember. “I know it matters.”

  
  


The Doctor opened his eyes again and was a bit confused to realize he was standing on a hard grating, and not sitting on humid sand any longer. He looked at the tip of his shoes with a frown of confusion, his chucks morphed into heavy black boots that seamlessly blended into a pair of black jeans. Clothes could have recognized among a million others. His black leather jacket creaked in protest as he reached out to the Rose standing in front of him, the Rose he had already learnt to love, the Rose that was about to die because of her selflessness and bravery. He was supposed to know this was just a memory, that whatever he would do nothing would change, but his hearts keened at the sound of her pained moan and his body enveloped hers, his strong arms wrapping around her waist and his ridiculously big nose pressing into her cheek as he opened his mouth to swallow to the last breath of Vortex energy. The blinding yellow light radiating from her eyes and the silvery tracks of tears on her reddened cheeks evaporated into small clouds of energy he was quick to breathe in, despite the first alarms than rang through his limbs, ricocheted against his ribcage and throbbed in his brain. So much energy not even he had been able to resist its power, an overload of puissance that had torn down his every nerve, his every muscle, his every cell. A wonder Rose had managed to fight off the onslaught of that destructive omnipotence long enough to save him. 

 

He broke the kiss when she began to wobble in his arms and her body, rid of all the Vortex particles that kept her standing, slumped forward into his arms.

  
  


“You thought you had it all, didn’t you?” her voice, the same ethereal voice breathed against the nape of his neck as he cradled her limp frame against his broad chest.

“What do you mean?” he asked, wincing at the first frenzied flutters of his left heart that was starting to give up. “Rose, what do you mean?”

“Look into my eyes, Doctor,” she simply answered.

  
  


And so he did. He cupped her face with his rough, calloused hands and stared into her eyes to see something he had been oblivious to in that moment. A glint of yellow that coursed through the maze of her irises, a faint tinge that lingered along streaks of brown for a few seconds before it faded. Vortex energy. Not much, just a residu. A residu that was enough for the Bad Wolf to survive in the deepest part of her mind and body. A residu that might save her life if it held sufficient power to be awakened again. She was right. It mattered.

 

He breathed in a ragged gasp when the whole room started to spin around him, its colours melting into a blurry canvas or greys and reds that turned to browns and whites until they froze into a picture he hadn’t seen in centuries. Rows of tiny desks, bright feathered dipped into ink pots on their corners, large windows that offered a view on majestic gardens he had long forgotten. Walls hidden behind ancient cupboards carved with Gallifreyan symbols, worthless trinkets and priceless relics on display, protected by a thin sheet of glass.

  
  


“I think… I think what happens here is important,” Rose spoke from somewhere deep into the back of his head. “I don’t know how I know this, but… This is important. Maybe you can figure out why?”

  
  


The door to the classroom was flung open and the Doctor whirled on his heels to watch a much more recent memory unfold before his expectant eyes. He followed Rose to the nearest cupboard  and was almost tempted to intervene when she rolled the large sleeve of his Gallifreyan ceremonial uniform around her hand to smash a glass window. Instead, he observed with a both proud and sad smile his precious Rose steal the life capsules from the cupboards - the same capsules that had brought him here, the capsules she had used to save him, the same capsules that had signed her death. A deep, angry voice shouted at them from the doorstep and he jumped in perfect synchronicity with her.

 

The Doctor gaped at the capsule that crashed on a stone tile, trailed his eyes up the yellowish vapours rising in the air and tried to dissipate them with broad movements of his hands with a shriek of horror - a vain attempt at protecting his Rose from their power. Life-saving energy to Time Lords, deadly poison to humans. But this was a memory. He could only watch her inhale the particles and wait for the worse. Nothing happened. Nothing, but an almost invisible light glowing in the depth of her eyes. The same kind of glow he had observed moments before. The weak presence of Vortex energy, a faint twinkle that was just enough to set a spark of understanding ablaze in a far corner of his brain. 

  
  


“You’re in my mind, Doctor,” Rose giggled - the Rose that was but a shadow over his back, the other was long gone from the classroom. “That should have been enough for you to understand.”

“You… You knew?” the Doctor asked, quite unable to decide of he should be thrilled and relieved, or horrified.

“Rose didn’t. I did.”

“You’re not Rose,” he whispered, feeling the thin hair at the nape of his neck rise under the shiver of fright that coursed down his spine. “Bad Wolf...”

“The Wolf never stopped howling, Doctor. You just didn’t want to listen. Rose didn’t either.”

“I’m listening, now,” he murmured, leaning against a desk so he wouldn’t topple over under the weight of all the implications her words entailed. “Just tell me if you can save my Rose.”

“I can do so much more, Doctor,” she said softly, and he could almost hear the smile around each syllable. “I can die to give you the life you both want. The life you both deserve.”

“How?”

“Tell me, Doctor, do you remember how a regeneration works?”

“You mind leaves the physical body until every cell has been replaced and then comes back. That’s why you keep your memories and your basic character traits. The mind just goes through a… Transfer, of some sort.”

“Quite right. Remind me, where are you?”

“In… I’m in Rose’s mind. Gods, I’m in her mind,” he repeated, running a feverish hand through his tousled hair. “It’s waiting for her body to regenerate. It’s going to die, she can’t… She can’t regenerate, her body is dead, and she’s just human. She’s going to die.”

“She has lived in the Tardis for a long time, and I have lived with her for almost just as long, Doctor,” the entity that had nothing of Rose but the melody of her voice laughed. “I’m part of her. Time is part of her. Whatever your definition of the word  _ human  _ is, Rose Tyler hasn’t been one for quite a few years. She isn’t fully Time Lady, not yet, so you’re right, she can’t regenerate. But she has enough of me left to live again. She just needs a little help.”

“What help?” the Doctor said loudly, exasperated by so many riddles and mysterious palavers when the life of his precious Rose was at stake.

“The capsule that’s in your pocket, Doctor,” she pointed out, unwilling to built over his obvious distress and anxiety. “I can feed on it. I’ll use it to bring her back to life and I’ll die in the process. Rose will live, but she won’t be the same. She’ll be… Like you. She’ll be… Assimilated. The energy in that capsule will see her as what she isn’t because of me. It will be a long and painful process, Doctor, but that’s the only way. Your Rose can live, but only as one of your own species.”

“You don’t sound particularly fond of the idea,” the Doctor noticed with a frown, certain there was some big dark side to this otherwise perfect plan.

“I have a conscience of my own, and Rose Tyler is a beautiful person,” and he could feel the shrug that came with the simple statements. “I knew this was bound to happen, I knew this was part of my purpose in the scheme of her life. It doesn’t make it any easier. I’m going to miss her. Do what must be done, Doctor. And say goodbye to her, from an old friend.”

“Wait, one last thing,” the Doctor interjected before the presence completely faded and he could be sent back to the Tardis. “What happened earlier, on Bad Wolf Bay...”

“The resentment was mine, not hers. I’ve always hated you for what you did to her, Doctor. She never did. She forgave you. I never did. Whatever you think Rose Tyler is worth, you can’t be further away from the truth. Never forget that, Doctor. Never forget the Rose almost had to wilt for good to keep your hearts alive. Now go. Be happy, Doctor.”

  
  


The Doctor spun around on his feet as he felt the light pressure of a finger on the protruding vertebrae at the base of his neck and fell face to face with the Rose he thought he’d never see again. She winked over an eye overflooding with golden light and her full lips drew into a smile she was quick to press against her fingertips to blow her a cheeky kiss. Before he could return the feeling to the both terrifying and magnificent entity, a sharp hook tugged at the back of his head and pulled him into a tornado of colours and a blurry succession of memories he couldn’t decipher, a last journey through the deepest and darkest corner of her powerful mind. The headache that assaulted his brain as he rushed back into his physical body had a loud curse flow from his lips, and he was quick to press the heel of his hands against his eyes in a desperate attempt to tame the excruciating throb cause by the dim light in his bedroom. His bedroom. Rose.

 

He ignored the slim trickle of blood that ran through the hair at the back of his head and scrambled back to his knees, his shaky fingers diving into his pocket to find the one thing that would save the love of his life. The tiny ball he held between his fingertips, covered with intricate patterns of cracks that resembled thunderbolts, wouldn’t take much pressure to break. One squeeze of his fingers, and Rose would live again. It seemed preposterous that she had had to go through Hell and back to save him and that he’d only have to break a glass shell - that he wouldn’t even possess if it weren’t for her. The Bad Wolf was right to hate him. Thankfully, it also loved Rose, and was willing to give its life for her. For them.

 

The Doctor bent over her cold, still body, let the glass ball roll into his palm hovering over her chest, twined his free fingers with her on the side of the bed, then sent a small prayer to the deities, to the stars, to anyone and anything that would listen.  _ Let her live _ . He took a deep breath and snapped his fingers around the capsule. The freed, golden steam floated around her dead body for a long moment, gently perturbed by the harsh, hurried exhales that flowed past his lips under the unbearable anticipation.

  
  


“Please,” he murmured to the yellow vapours drifting over her chest like a lazy cloud. “Please, tell me this will work. Please, let this work.”

  
  


His heartbeat grew exponentially faster, his hearts hammering so hard against his ribcage he felt it reverberate to the column of his throat. His knuckles turned white as he squeezed her hand, dug his nails into the dead skin of her palm, his eyes filled with tears he was quick to blink away, his stomach churned and his chin trembled, a sudden sickening terror striking him ferociously in the guts when nothing happened. Nothing. He tried to reach out with his mind again, tried to contact either her or the entity, but he only met a cruel, solid wall. 

  
  


“Oh, Gods,” he sobbed, panic making him tug frantically on her hoodie as if it had the power to wake her up. “Oh, Gods, don’t do this to me. Come on, Rose. Come on, my love, please.”

  
  


Every second that ticked away made his hopes crumble, piece by piece, the pleas he muttered, chopped by the gurgling cries rising up his throat, turning into a desperate litany that lost, word after word, more of its hope and conviction. 

  
  


“Rose, come on, you can do it,” he insisted, the sobs growing louder and louder, until he was screaming in the silence of their bedroom. “You don’t get to die on me, Rose Tyler! You hear me, Bad Wolf? She doesn’t get to die on me, now hurry the fuck up and save her already!”

  
  


_ You really should stop using that word, Doctor. _

 

The Doctor fell backwards on his elbows with a shriek when her cheeky voice taunted him at the back of his head, and he hastened to wipe the heavy tears coating his puffy eyes so he wouldn’t miss what was happening. He couldn’t tell whether it had been her own voice, or the one of the entity, but he could definitely tell the currents of life energy were shifting. The uniform cloud gathered into a river of amber smoke that slowly, torturously slowly, slithered to her face and snaked into her parted mouth. Renewed, delirious hope erupted between his hearts, cascaded through his whole body like an avalanche on too steep a mountain slope that unrooted his rage and fears and despair like vulgar bad weed. Rose would live.

 

A quirk of his lips morphed into a broad smile at the sight of the energy particles simmering around her body - it only took a mere minute before the quiet simmering evolved into the roaring brazier of gold and amber he was familiar with. His eyes widened, the flames of regeneration dancing on the surface of his awed chocolate irises, like a kid watching a firework show for the first time.  _ Regeneration _ . It took him a moment barely short enough for him to duck under the side of the bed and cover his head with his hands, half a second ahead of the scorching beams that burst from her extremities and would have pierced a hole through his chest if the realization had failed to strike him on time. A faint smell of burnt wood reached his nostrils, the bed creaked under the sudden tension of her body, a lamp was projected against a wall and shattered to pieces. Loud. Hot. Violent. Until it stopped altogether.

 

The Doctor grabbed the edge of the mattress and stole a quick peek to make sure danger was out of the way. Blond hair. Round nose. Full lips. He understood where the sudden torrent of relief was coming from. She hadn’t changed. Oh, he would have been the last person in the universe to complain if she had looked different - Rose Tyler would always be Rose Tyler in his eyes, no matter what appearance she wore - but he was relieved for her. For all he knew, she could very well be devastated to learn she had turned into a Time Lady - a pleasant shiver trickled down his spine at the thought - and he believed a change of face and body would only make it worse. It was better this way.

 

He pinched his lips, hard, and swallowed an undignified cry. Her nostrils had flared, just a little. Her eyelid, the right one, had twitched, just a little. Her jaw had tensed, just a little. She was breathing. She was moving. She was living. He ignored the growing pain in his knees and tenderly slipped a hand behind her head while the other cupped her face, his thumb drawing soft, languid circles on the healthy-pink apple of her cheek. He couldn’t describe how it felt to bask in the warmth of her skin, to perceive the miniscule vibrations of her blood flowing in her veins, to discern the almost inaudible sound of her quiet breath. And more importantly, that he’d get to enjoy all of these little things for what could very well be a few millennia.

 

Curiosity got the better of him, and he trailed his fingers down her neck, over her right clavicle, and pressed them down over the swell of her right breast. It was weak, quiet, but fast and even. A second heart was growing next to its human companion. Rose Tyler. A Time Lady. He shed a tear and blew a chuckle at each new dream he came up with that was now deeply anchored in the realm of possibilities. They could grow old,  _ very  _ old together. They could bond. They could have kids,  _ lots  _ of kids.

 

The fleeting image the Tardis had shared with him came back to the forefront of his mind, and he buried his teary face in the crook of her neck, just to hear her breathe better, just to feel her heat more closely, just smell her fragrance more fully. Just to make it all… Real. 

  
  


“You stink like a bloody rat.”

  
  


His eardrums buzzed at the glorious sound of her rough, broken whisper and his hearts soared with ecstatic happiness when she turned her head to press a kiss on his dirty, tousled hair. He laughed. He laughed against her skin he refused to admit probably smelled just as bad as his, he laughed until his ribs ached and his abdomen hurt, he laughed until his lungs gave up and stopped filling up with fresh air, and even then, he kept laughing because nothing could make him any happier than to hear his precious Rose laugh with him.

 

* * *

 


	19. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the epilogue I promised, with so much tooth-rotting fluff and cheesy romance you'll probably get diabetes just reading it!
> 
> It's rather short, but I've decided to write a second story that will tell everything that happened between the last chapter and this epilogue (so, yeah, huge story coming your way!)  
> So, this is both the end and the beginning! I hope I'll see you later on the second story!
> 
> I hope you'll like it!
> 
> BTW, here is the list of people who deserve my sincerest thanks, I'm really grateful for all your sweet comments and your unawerving support, and this story probably wouldn't be where it is today without you! So, THANK YOU RhianJones, Pellaaearien, mrsbertucci, KK1986, and of course TenRoseForeverandever!
> 
> Of course, I'm also thanking all the other readers out there, for the comments, the kudos and the love you've given this story!  
> I LOVE YOU ALL

* * *

 

 

The Doctor readjusted his square glasses on the tip of his nose and blew a heavy breath through his clenched teeth. He aimed his sonic screwdriver in the general direction of the messy tangle of wires and cables sprouting from behind the large television, one last spark of energy that should be enough to set the rest of his plan into motion - or so he hoped, because he had no way of testing it before he’d actually turn it on. If it didn’t work, well… He didn’t really want to dwell on it.

 

Satisfied with his handiwork, he tucked his screwdriver back in the inner pocket of his pinstriped jacket and clapped his hands with a contented hum. Rose was the kind to always pretend she didn’t want anything for her birthday, to say she already had anything she would ever need or wish for, and it was growing increasingly harder to find new ideas to surprise her. Hopefully, this gift would change her mind. Hopefully, this would be the best birthday present she had ever been offered.

 

He made sure the cushions were properly fluffed up, that the remote was where it was supposed to be, on her side of the couch, that the lights were bright enough, and once he was sure everything was in order, he walked back to the console room - not without tripping over an Adipose plush toy that was lying in his way with a grumbled curse. He flicked a few levers, pressed some buttons, carefully analysed the mountain of data displayed on the screens, knowing he’d only get one shot at this, one single opportunity in what could be a very long lifetime. The Tardis was quick to reassure him with a gentle wave of comfort she blew in the back of his head, and he knew it was time.

 

The Doctor quietly went to their bedroom, hoping his Rose was awake - despite being a Time Lady, she had never lost the awful human habit of sleeping eight hours straight on a regular basis. He peeked inside the room through the small interstice of the door and was relieved to find her already fully dressed, tying her long blond hair into a loose bun. It was in moment like this, simple pictures of everyday life, that he always found himself struck by the sheer luck he had been blessed with. To know he would get to spend the rest of his days with this beautiful woman on her side always sent his brain swimming in an intoxicating cocktail of love and happiness, and the best thing about it was that she felt the same. 

  
  


“Stop staring, Doctor,” she teased as she turned her head on the side to peer at him through her eyelashes - he would never learn she could feel him in her head when he was all overwhelmed like this.

“Sorry, love,” he apologized softly, padding towards her before her rolled an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss on her temple. “I just wanted to tell you… Happy birthday.”

“Hm, thank you,” Rose smiled as she willingly leant into his hug. “I reckon you’ve finally accepted  _ not  _ to give me any presents.”

“Actually,” he started, nervously tugging on his tie. “I think I have found something you’ll like. I promise it’s not dangerous, this time.”

  
  


Rose remembered all too well the  _ surprise  _ he had planned three years before that had involved way too many bloodthirsty aliens and venomous plants - a coordinate miscalculation, or so he had pretended - so she was rather relieved to know they wouldn’t risk their lives for the sake of a birthday gift again.

  
  


“Alright,” Rose agreed with a grin, putting her fists on her hips as she waited for the present. “Where is it, then?”

“If you would just go to the media room, love,” the Doctor said, giving her cheek a quick peck. “Don’t touch anything, just sit down on the couch. You don’t have to close your eyes or anything, just… Don’t touch anything.”

“Okay, I won’t. Can I bring a cup of coffee, though? You know how I am without my morning liquor.”

“I’ve already prepared it, you’ll find it on the coffee table,” he winked as he silently walked up to the Gallifreyan cot. “I’ve also put a few strawberry muffins. Go on, I’ll join you in a moment.”

  
  


Rose blew him a kiss as a thank you and disappeared through the door, while he bent over the cot with the same goofy smile he always wore when he looked at the tiny little being he never could quite fathom had brought so much joy in his life. He slipped his index through the pouty little fingers and brushed his thumb over the smooth skin on the back of her hand, just with enough insistence to gently stir her awake.

  
  


“Wakey, wakey,” he whispered, bringing his other hand to unbutton the sleeping bag dotted with tiny stars. “It’s time to give Mummy her birthday present, my little nugget.”

  
  


The Doctor carefully picked his daughter up and tucked her in the safety of his arms, rocking her tenderly when she started to fuss and flail her little limbs around.

  
  


“None of that, now,” he tutted, quickly reaching for the bottle of milk the Tardis always made sure to keep warm. “You don’t want to cry on your Mum’s birthday, do you? No, you don’t. If this work, your Mummy will cry enough for the both of you, trust me.”

  
  


He offered the nipple she was quick to suck into her mouth, and he took one more moment to wonder at the sight of her tiny, so tiny hand clenched tight around the lapel of his jacket, of her bright blue eyes staring through him, of her cute little nose scrunching up as she suckled on her bottle,  before he headed for the media room. His heatbeart started to gallop in his chest as he got closer to it, and he sent prayers to whoever would listen that everything would work according to his - rather impressive, he had to congratulate himself - plan. Rose was already in the couch when he entered, sipping on her coffee, a half-eaten muffin in her hand, and he took a deep breath.  _ Please, let this work _ , he thought, not too hard so she wouldn’t overhear it.

 

The Doctor sat on the couch next to her, taking extra precautions not to thwart her daughter, and when he was sure she was safely nestled in the crook of his left arm, he twined his free fingers between Rose’s after she put her cup of coffee back down on the table.

  
  


“Alright, my love,” he started, fighting off the hooks of anxiety tugging at his stomach. “This is… This should work. I’ve spent more than a year preparing for this and I’m fairly certain it will. There’s a remote, right there. You just have to press play, and then… Well, you’ll see.”

“Okay,” she nodded slowly, picking up the remote on the armrest. “A year, though? Doctor, you didn’t have to, this is…”

“Oh, yes, I had to, couldn’t get the idea out of my head,” he grinned. “Okay, do it. Oh, wait, before you press the button, just know that you’ll have exactly fourteen minutes. And try not to break my fingers, please.”

“God, Doctor, what on Earth have you come up with this time?” Rose giggled as he brought her fingers to his lips to press a soft kiss on her knuckles. “You know I’m not much into big surprises.”

“I promise you’ll like this one,” he swore, purposefully looking down at the remote. “Go on, love. Present time.”

  
  


Rose gathered her knees close to her chest and, with one last look at her wonderful bondmate and perfect daughter, she pressed the button. The picture of a large living-room flickered to life on the screen. A living-room she knew all too well. Her fingers tightened around his and she bent forward towards the screen, as if she could go through it if she got close enough. Her eyes were already full of tears when one Jackie Tyler appeared into the frame, but seeing her mother had a series of broken sobs rise in her throat and the tears spring from the corner of her eyelids. The Doctor was quick to roll his arm around her waist and wiggle close to her, ready to comfort her and reassure her if she showed a single sign of needing it.

  
  


“It was about bloody time you two found a way to call me!” Jackie chastised through the screen - though the broad smile that split her face in two in no way matched the offended tone of her voice. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”

“Mum,” Rose could only sob, overwhelmed by what was happening, unable to find the words. “Mum, you…”

  
  


Rose clasped her hand over her mouth and her eyes went from the screen, to the Doctor, then to the screen again, as if she couldn’t quite believe this was really happening. The Doctor was rather amused by the bewilderment and the joy he read on her face, relieved to no end that it was working, and he knew that was it. No birthday present would ever come close to being as wonderful and gratifying as this one. But Rose was at loss for words, opening her mouth without any other sound than ragged cries and strained breaths coming out of it, so the Doctor thought it better to give her a moment to come to terms with the fact that he mother, from the parallel universe, was sitting right before her.

  
  


“Hello, Jackie,” the Doctor helpfully started the conversation, grinning at the joy he could read on his beautiful bondmate’s face. “It’s Rose’s birthday, today, thought we could pay you a little visit. How long has it been for you since Rose left?”

“About five years,” Jackie answered - and she got just as teary as her daughter at the question. “You?”

“I’ll let Rose answer that one,” he smiled as he rubbed the small of her back in tight little circles, a gentle move of reassurance. “How many years, love?”

  
  


The Doctor encouraged her with a fond look and a squeeze on her thigh, happy to feel the grateful wave that washed over his body and his hearts. Rose looked back at the screen and gaped at it for a second more before she understood the question and gathered enough clarity of mind to find the answer.

  
  


“Mum, I…” Rose began, a chuckle cutting through her words. “Eighty-six, Mum. That was eighty-six years ago.”

“Rose Tyler, are you telling me you’re celebrating your hundredth birthday?” Jackie almost shouted, momentarily rising on her feet so her face disappeared from the screen. “One hundred?”

“Yeah, I am Mum,” she laughed through her tears, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Still looking good, right?”

“How… Wait, is that a baby?” Jackie shrieked when their daughter started to coo loudly in the Doctor’s arms. “ _ Your _ baby?”

  
  


Rose finally realized that, indeed, this was probably more important than her age, and enthusiastic pride brought even more tears to her eyes. She gently picked her daughter up from his arms and pressed a quick kiss on her forehead before she securely held her closer to the screen, using a hand to shake her little arm.

  
  


“Meet your grand-daughter, Mum,” Rose introduced as a confirmation with a bright smile. “Come on, sweet pea, say hello to your gran.”

“Dear Lord, I am a  _ gran _ !” she squealed excitedly, clapping her hands. “Pete, quick, bring the camera! Look at that precious cutie, oh my heart, you two, did you want me to have an attack? How old is she?”

“She just turned five last week,” the Doctor answered proudly, cradling the skull of his baby with his large palm. “Oh, yes, totally normal, she’s, er… She’s… Full Time Lady, so, she’s growing much slower than a human.”

“How do you mean,  _ full Time Lady _ ? Rose? Does that mean…?”

“Well, long and painful story short, no, I’m not human anymore. We don’t have enough time to go into details but yeah, I’m… A Time Lady. Turning one hundred today. And I’m married to this handsome Time Lord here, and we have a beautiful tiny Time Lady.”

“Married?” Jackie could only ask, the rest of the - quite frankly absurd - information seemingly not reaching her brain.

“Oh yes, married on eight planets and bonded on twelve others,” the Doctor beamed, reaching with his hand to show the silver ring on his finger and the matching ribbon around his wrist. “I hope I had your blessing Jackie.”

“Of course you had, you daft alien, it’s not like I would’ve had any other choice anyway,” she shrugged, dabbing a handkerchief under her eyes. “My Rose’s always loved you, God knows why, but… I just want her to be happy. Are you, sweetheart?”

“Never been happier, Mum.”

  
  


The sound of a camera shutter filtered through the screen, just as Rose cradled her daughter in her arms and leaned against the Doctor’s side, his lips drawn into a smile landing on her temple in a soft kiss, his arm protectively wrapping the two most precious things he would ever be blessed with - until Rose would gift him with a son just over two hundred years later, that is.

 

* * *

 


End file.
